


A Little Extra

by taybow48



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel!Castiel, Angels, Angels and Demons, Angst, Blow Jobs, Castiel's True Form, Complete, Dark Dean Winchester, DeanCas - Freeform, Demon Dean Winchester, Demon deal, Demon!Dean, Demons, Destiel - Freeform, Dubcon Kissing, Dubious Consent, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gags, Gen, Hand Jobs, Hurt Castiel, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Mild Gore, Mildly Dubious Consent, Post-Season/Series 04, Pre-Apocalypse, Protective Castiel, Shower Sex, Smut, Torture, Wing Kink, Wings, seance, wing - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2014-07-22
Packaged: 2018-01-06 21:30:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 26,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1111729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taybow48/pseuds/taybow48
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When an Angel of the Lord named Castiel pulled Dean Winchester from Hell, a little something extra was raised along with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Are Dreams Not Memories?

**Author's Note:**

> This kinda goes in season 4, but I altered a lot of canon facts. Just know that Castiel raised Dean from Hell, Sam has his demon powers (but Dean doesn't know), and Lilith is currently still breaking the 66 seals.

The second punch was more forceful than the first, but he knew Dean was just getting started. He was the only one strong enough to do this, Castiel reminded himself as he stared defiantly into Dean’s dark eyes. 

He observed Dean as he smiled maliciously at the angel bindings on the cuffs strapping Castiel’s wrists to the wall. Then, Cas could feel his hot breath on his skin. 

“This is gonna be fun, angel,” Dean whispered dangerously as he drug his teeth across Cas’ vulnerable neck. Cas gave a pained grunt as he felt a warm trickle of blood where Dean pierced his skin. 

“It always is,” Castiel growled. 

Dean clicked his tongue and paced back towards the table laden in blades, razors, and other weapons specializing in the malicious torture that the demon craved. Warily, Cas’ eyes followed every move he made. He picked up a white bottle that Cas knew contained holy oil, but he sat it back down throwing Cas a threatening, longing glare. His hands traced over a spiked mallet; then, his fingers lingered on a medium length knife. 

“It’s that kind of attitude that inspires me to take things slow and agonizing,” he coerced as he picked up a blade. “Maybe I should peel you apart bit by bit. Or force your wings into manifestation. Pluck your feathers one by one. How does that sound?” He hummed. 

Castiel couldn’t resist retaliating in a grin. He knew his wings were safe, and that his grace recovered his vessel quickly. Honestly, he just wanted Dean to start already. The sooner he began, the sooner Dean would be his normal self again.

“You like that idea, huh, angel?” Dean smirked. 

Like lightning, Dean appeared mere inches in front of Castiel. He smiled as his blade began ripping the buttons from Cas’ white dress shirt that already had a few blood splatters on the collar. Seconds later his shirt was torn from his body to expose his torso that Dean’s hands were warmly and eagerly running up and down. Then, the blade sliced into him. A cry escaped Castiel’s lips as the pain raced through his body. The first time Dean tore Cas apart, he had attempted to show no signs of his agony, but, now, the screams couldn’t be suppressed. The blade continued carving into his chest and stomach.

“I like when you scream,” Dean rumbled into Cas’ ear. 

His tongue was flicking lightly along Cas’ jawline. Nipping and sucking hard bruises into his skin, Dean’s mouth caused more emotional pain than any kind of physical torture Cas could ever endure. Dean chuckled as Cas groaned from both forms of agony. This side of him knew the attraction and desire that Castiel had for Dean, and the demon was playing it against him. 

The blade pushed deeper into his side. Instinctually, his hands pulled against the chains that clattered against metal. There was no escaping. His eyes clinched shut and his head lolled forward as the razor etched into his skin. 

“Open your eyes,” the demon rasped as he pushed a hand through Castiel’s dark hair to tilt his head up again. “I want to see the pain.”

Obediently, his blue eyes flickered open to look up into Dean’s features. The lips in front of him itched into a smirk.

“Much better.” 

The hand pulled uncomfortably in Cas’ hair and the blade made it’s way into his upper arm. Winces broached his features, and Dean stepped closer. Then, Castiel could feel all of Dean pressed tightly against him and soft lips on his own. It was everything Castiel could do not to kiss him back. Wanting friction, Dean pushed his hips into the angel. A clatter told Cas that the knife-edge was no longer tearing into Cas’ body. 

The demon-part of Dean pulled from the kiss and stared into Cas. “Kiss me back, angel. I know you want to.”

Looking away, Cas closed his eyes and waited for Dean to return to his torturing. He didn’t have to wait long when a burning, heavy liquid seeped into his wounds. Throwing his head back, Cas moaned and fought back tears. 

“I could be causing those same noises with such a different form of pleasure, Castiel,” Dean breathed heavily. 

\--

Dean jolted awake in his rented hotel room. Sweat had drenched through his t-shirt and ran from every pore of his body. He reached for the cup of water resting on the nearby nightstand, and he shakily brought the rim to his mouth draining the liquid from the glass. Out of the corner of his eye, the clock gleamed 3:48. Knowing he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep after the nightmare, Dean sighed and made his way towards the shower. 

He welcomed the refreshing, cool water on his overheated skin as the dream was washed down the drain. Rubbing shampoo into his hair, he hummed a comforting tune. Then, after he felt clean, he exited the shower, dried himself, and donned the clothes folded on the counter. As he leaned over the sink to brush his teeth, Castiel suddenly appeared behind him causing him to jump.

“Hello, Dean.”

He spun rapidly to face him and reached a hand to Castiel’s upper arm. The touch seemed to sear into Cas causing him to flinch at the abrupt contact.

“Cas,” Dean breathed as he dropped his hand from the trench coat. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he stated. His eyes raked over Dean. “You had another nightmare.”

Nervously, Dean ran a hand through his hair to help flatten it. He really didn’t want to discuss his recurring dreams of torturing his best friend. It was sick, and they reminded him of his decades in Hell. 

Forcing his way passed Castiel, Dean entered the bedroom and began tossing his things back into his duffle bag. Slowly, Cas followed him. He could feel those intense eyes staring carefully through him towards his soul. 

Dean cleared his throat. “So what brings you, Cas?”

“I wanted to check on you,” he answered. 

“Well, I’m good,” he ensured and faked a smile. Seeing through his lies, Cas sighed and sat on the bed next to Dean’s bag. 

“Tell me about your dream. It will help,” Castiel insisted. 

“Look, Cas, we’ve talked about this… and we don’t have to talk about it again.”

Castiel waited patiently for Dean to continue. Finally, defeated, Dean sat beside him and looked towards his hands in shame.

“It was similar to the others,” he started. “The dark room. The table. Blades and blood and… you. I was torturing you, Cas,” his voice broke. 

A comforting hand grasped his shoulder. “You can’t control these dreams, Dean. They are only dreams.”

“They feel so real. I can smell the blood and feel the knife break through skin.” 

His cheeks flared at the thought and something stirred within him. He could see Cas’ exposed bleeding neck and remembered how his teeth and tongue felt over the wound. He felt something within him dark and churning. His gaze lifted to the hand on his arm. It was heavy as it burned into him. Licking his dry lips, he wanted to either pull away from or lean into the holy touch. Then, leisurely, the hand dropped from his arm and all of the feelings receded just as quickly as they had boiled. 

He blinked.

“You’re going to be okay.” Castiel’s voice came into focus. “Get some sleep now while it is still early. I’ll watch over you.”

Instantly, Dean was tucked back under the covers with Cas laying opposite to face him. His eyes drooped softly as he drifted into sleep under his angel’s protection.

\--

 _It’s getting worse_ , Castiel thought as he watched Dean sleep. 

He was starting to remember his counterpart’s actions. At first Dean could only recall glimpses of the room. Now, Castiel was sure that Dean could envision every second of that dungeon. 

Castiel sighed and threaded his fingers through Dean’s light hair. All he wanted to do was keep Dean safe. To bring him back complete. But he’d done more than that. Dean was more than whole. He had a little extra sliver of Hell attached to his soul. 

When Castiel saw into Dean’s soul for the first time, he knew. He had stitched Dean back together again. He knew every atom that made up his body and being. Castiel knew that the demon he had been commanded to raise from perdition had tainted Dean’s pure soul. In Hell, the Righteous Man had succumbed to torturing and had earned his jet-black eyes. Now, even months after being pulled from the Pit, this side of Dean took over when memories of Hell triggered the idle demon within him. When his own demon took over, Dean was completely different—a raging masochist with blood lust sparkling in his once-green eyes. 

Dean breathed steadily as he slept, and Cas smiled at how peaceful he looked.

He was a good man in Castiel’s beliefs. Dean. Always fighting for good, unknowingly having a piece of the enemy trapped within himself. But Dean always did the right thing, and that was the reason Castiel volunteered to protect Dean at any cost.

He hadn’t told a soul about Dean’s dormant demon. The first time Dean relapsed, Castiel had sensed its presence and had appeared at its side. He needed to know the permanence and compliance the demon held over Dean.

When Castiel arrived at the abandoned building, Sam was unconscious on the wooden floor. The already-dead monster from the hunt was being stabbed viciously by Dean’s figure. 

“It’s dead,” Castiel stated warily. 

Dean stood at his full height, sighed, and turned to the angel.

“Hello, angel,” Dean smirked. “Thanks for the ride out of Hell. It’s so grotesque and violent up here.”

Cas narrowed his eyes. “What do you want?”

He grinned and cleaned the blade on his jacket’s sleeve. 

“I just wanna have a little fun,” the demon said sweetly. 

“You’ve had your fun. Now suppress yourself or I’ll do it for you,” Castiel threatened.

Dean’s demon curled his lips. “So feisty. What do I get in return?”

“Nothing. Now, recede.”

“Not that easy, fluffy wings. You’re gonna have to persuade me first.” 

Castiel tilted his head slightly and scoffed. “You want to make a deal? With me?” he laughed in exasperation. “I’m an angel, you ass. I have no soul to sell.”

“I don’t want your soul, Castiel,” the demon sneered. “I want your body.”

It had been a terrible idea, but the rules were confined, and the pain was temporary. When the demon surfaced, Castiel was to be completely at his mercy. It was a way to keep the demon content with no one else able to get hurt—including Dean. The demon had corroded Castiel’s body again and again, always taking his precious time. At the end of every session, the demon would release him and block the events from Dean’s memories when he withdrew into Dean’s soul. 

But now the actions were leaking into Dean’s subconscious mind, and soon he would start to believe they weren’t just nightmares.

Dean started to shake in his sleep, pulling Cas back to the present. He reached forward to comfort him, and Dean’s eyes fluttered open.

“Hey, Cas,” he drawled as he repositioned himself. His eyes were clouded with sleep as he rolled into Cas’ body, perfectly tucking himself into his chest. Within seconds, Dean was snoring lightly. Smiling, Cas snaked an arm around Dean’s torso and pulled him in tight.

“I’m doing this for you, Dean,” he whispered, mostly for himself. 

\--

Weeks later, Dean woke again to Castiel hovering nearby. He was standing uncertainly as Castiel stared into him. Dean’s expressions changed from confusion to concern.

“What’s wrong, Cas?” Dean stood abruptly and strode to him. 

Hesitating, Cas dropped his eyes to the ground. 

“It’s my wing,” Castiel coughed out. “It’s dislocated. I need you to repair it.”

“Umm, okay, ya, I can do that,” Dean stuttered.

Slowly, he shrugged off his jacket and coat placing them on the nearby chair. Dean’s eyes hovered innocently as the angel pulled the blue tie loose and unbuttoned his dress shirt. 

“I’ve never actually seen your real wings before,” Dean thought aloud. 

As he bared his shoulders, Cas tilted his head in the irony. “Not many have.”

“How did your wing snap anyway?”

“Demon,” Cas answered honestly. 

“How could a demon do that if your wings are invisible?” Dean wondered.

Not knowing how to answer the question, Cas revealed his wings to distract him. His grace blossomed in triumph at the manifestation of the feathery extensions. Heart pounding, Dean studied the wings in awe.

They appeared large and threatening, yet Dean found himself drawn to them. His eyes followed the angel as he sat on the edge of the mattress. The wings drooped carefully behind him contrasting against the white comforter. 

“It’s my right wing. Top joint. It just needs pushed back in place. Everything else seems manageable,” Cas said surely.

“Okay, I think I can do that. I’m gonna feel the joint first to see where it needs popped back in. This might hurt.”

Dean slid onto the bed behind the wings and kneeled to feel the left wing in order to compare it to the damaged one. Castiel took a deep breath as he remembered the same hands doing similar motions to him recently. Dean’s grip moved to the right wing causing a whimper from the angel. 

“I know, Cas. I’m gonna patch you up, don’t worry.”

His hands searched softly over the down and decided exactly how he was going to put the joint back together. 

“On three, okay?”

Cas nodded.

“One…two…” The joints snapped back together. A yelp emanated from Castiel and Dean felt horrible for causing the pain. “All done.”

“What happened to three?” Castiel gasped. 

He chuckled. “Dad taught me that trick. It hurts less if you aren’t tensed up.”

Intuitively, Dean’s fingers carded through the feathers of the wings to comfort him. His hands smoothed over ruffled feathers and corrected their direction. Iridescence shone in the black plumage: blues, greens, and purples reflected the light. Tracing the feathers, Dean noticed that some looked charred around the edges. 

“Cas? Some of your feathers are… burnt?” Dean assumed.

Under the consistent, graceful touch, Cas had been sated into a delirious state. His breathing was uneven as he savored the comforting caresses. He could only nod at Dean’s observation. 

Reaching out ever so gently, Dean traced the burned edges of the feather. Then, he felt his eyes roll back as he collapsed onto the mattress.

\--

Castiel was outstretched and chained in the dungeon; his chest faced the wall, so his bare back was revealed. Long, bleeding stripes crisscrossed his pale skin and stung from the lashes of the jagged whip. Breathing heavily, he rested his forehead against the white tile wall in front of him. 

“You’ll never guess what I found in the history books,” Dean’s voice taunted. His hands traced into Cas’ shoulder blades and occasionally ran over a welt, eliciting pained groans from the angel’s throat. “I discovered a rare, rare manuscript,” he breathed into Cas’ ear. “Wanna know what it’s about?”

“I’m sure you’re going to tell me anyway,” Cas croaked under the flashes of discomfort.

“Right you are!” he said eagerly. “I’ve found a spell, angel.”

The angel’s eyes closed in fear. Then, he rolled his head to face Dean. “Do I want to know which spell?”

“Oh, no, it’s a surprise.”

Dean strode towards the table out of Castiel’s sight. He couldn’t take his eyes off the angel’s back. There was a clatter of bowls and a swishing of liquid followed by the strike of a match. Strange words were muttered under Dean’s lips as the contents of the bowl burned and crackled. 

A piercing scream ripped itself from Castiel’s lungs as his upper back convulsed and twisted. Castiel squirmed as his grace was forced into submission.

“What are you doing to me?!” Castiel shouted in distress. 

Dean didn’t answer, but saw fear in Cas’ eyes when he turned. Large, black feathers were outstretched; the spell had summoned the dark wings into manifestation. As worry infiltrated his body, Castiel hung his head low when he realized he would be unable to will his wings away—much less move them.

Hands pushed greedily into the dark feathers and Castiel cried out from the overload of sensations. Water crept into his eyes as fingers smoothed over random plumage. Oddly, the touch was gentle, but that was worse than the expectation of pain. 

“Stop this!” Castiel pleaded with the demon. “Please, stop. Don’t touch them.”

The demon—Dean—continued to violate the wings. He spread them and pulled mildly on some of them. His hands pressed warmly into the upper joints of the wings and Cas began moaning underneath the clever fingers. As Dean’s caress moved closer and closer towards the base of his wings, whimpers escaped Castiel’s parted lips. 

“This is what Dean thinks about,” he heard himself whisper. “He wants you. He imagines what you would feel like beneath him. What you taste like.” Fingers crept closer to his spine. “Just like you want him.” 

“Stop,” he shuddered unconvincingly. Dean laced his fingers through the beginning of the wings protruding from human skin. 

“I’ll stop when I want to.”

Soon, Cas was pressed firmly against the wall as Dean’s deft hands found the small, walnut sized oil gland. The small stroke exploded pleasured moans from Castiel. His body convulsed and bucked greedily into him. 

His eyes flashed in fear and humiliation as Dean’s lips captured his own. Hands ran through his feathers and Cas sighed desperately into Dean’s mouth; then, he allowed Dean to kiss him deeply which Castiel returned with equal fervor. 

Dean pulled back and withdrew his fingers.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

In shame, Castiel shut his eyes and willed for different circumstances. 

Then, Dean reached for the flame and brought it to Cas’ wings. The first singe caused the angel to convulse and shudder against the wall trying to escape the fire. He felt his hands push back into his wings; the touch seared Castiel as much as the burning feathers producing whines through his jagged breathing. 

This was easier. The torture. The physical damage. Castiel’s fists clenched as Dean began massaging the carpals of his wings.

“So fragile,” he swooned. “So… breakable.”

The hands gripped tightly at the joint and pulled. A cry escaped the angel’s lips; then, he felt a snap. Pain emanated from the angel’s entire being, and Dean felt something evil feel triumphant within him. Castiel’s shrieks echoed through the room as Dean pressed and maneuvered through every feather of the dislodged wing. 

Slipping farther and farther away, Castiel embraced the darkness that washed over him.

\--

“Dean!” a voice begged for a response. “Dean!”

He was being held close and his face was being cradled between a pair of hands. With effort, Dean forced his eyes to open ever so slightly. His eyelashes batted in defiance. 

“Cas,” Dean mumbled. With the name, the memories came rushing back.

His body felt numb, but he propelled himself forward out of Castiel’s embrace. He stumbled, yet he managed to untangle his limbs from the sheets. Peering down towards Castiel, Dean’s mind raced. 

“What was that? What the hell is wrong with me, Cas?” Dean yelled. “And don’t tell me they are only dreams. That, whatever that was, it was not a dream.”

The angel sighed and looked away from him. His fingers tapped nervously on his thighs while he sought an explanation. 

“Don’t you dare lie to me,” Dean pressed. “Not on this.”

Blue eyes flickered back towards Dean. His lips parted and hesitated.

“You’re demonic side still lives within you,” he admitted. 

Clutching for support, Dean collapsed onto the mattress. His hands pushed into his cheeks, rubbed circles into his temples; then, he rested his face into them shielding his fears from Cas. 

“Why didn’t you say anything before?” Dean muttered into his hands. 

“I thought it unwise,” Cas shrugged. “There is nothing you can do about it.”

“Oh, and you can?” he snapped. “Cas, I’ve hurt you. I’ve…I’ve tortured you.”

“Dean, this isn’t your fault. It was my choice,” he pressed. “It is a simple way to keep everyone safe. To keep you safe.”

“Really, Cas?” Dean huffed. “What about you? From what I’ve seen, you haven’t been kept safe.”

Cas narrowed his eyes. 

“This isn’t about me, Dean. I’m not fragile.”

Silence filled the room, and the surrounding air became thick with unspoken thoughts that pulsed between them. 

Slowly, Cas spoke. “I made a deal with your demon, Dean.” At his confession, Dean’s face crumpled into his hands. “When the demon takes control of your mind and body, I am the only living being that it can torment. This is what is best… I’m an angel of the Lord. It is my duty to mankind. I’m doing this to protect you.”

Dean scoffed. “Yeah, then why do I feel like hell?—Nevermind; don’t answer that.” He gulped. “So what are we gonna do about it?”

The deep blue of the angel’s eyes pierced through him. 

“I don’t know, Dean.”


	2. Give My Best

“What do you mean you don’t know, Cas?” Dean groaned into his palm. Wearily, he turned to look at the angel sunken in the motel’s creaking mattress. “You should just smite me now while I’m not kicking and screaming.”

“No, Dean, killing you would only give the demon full reign of your body,” the angel stated. “Also, I have already tried exorcizing it, but it appears to be attached to your soul. There must be another way, we just need to keep looking.”

A forced laugh slipped from Dean’s lips; then, heavy-footed, he trudged to the table and grasped for the nearest bottle of alcohol he could find. Popping the top, he took a swig of whiskey. 

“You’re joking right? There is no way to cure a demon. It’s not just going to magically become better. The only way out of this is to kill it, and the only way to kill a demon—this thing that’s inside me—is to kill me.” 

He tilted his head back as he gulped another shot of warm liquor. Then, another. And another. Cas sat silently as Dean chugged down almost half the bottle. 

“That’s not going to help the situation,” Castiel finally spoke. His eyes trailed Dean as he paced back and forth in the room, whiskey still in hand. 

Dean scoffed; then, he tilted the bottle back to his mouth while watching Castiel in defiance. Immediately, Dean felt Castiel’s strong hands grip his shirt and pin him to the wall as the remaining liquid and glass shattered to the floor. Dean could feel Cas’ quickened breath on his face as the angel shook him to get his attention. 

“Do not give up hope, Dean! Not yet. I will find a way to free you from this, you just need to have faith.” His grip loosened slightly, but the promise was still there.

“Oh, have faith?” Dean echoed in resentment. “Faith in what, Cas? You?”

The words stung Castiel more than they should have, but they surged his anger. 

“Yes,” Castiel stated pressing Dean back into the wall. “Have faith in me.”

Then, with a flutter of his newly fixed wings, Castiel vanished, and Dean sank to the dirty carpet. 

\--

“Oh, Castiel, you have been extremely naughty,” the deep voice hissed. “You let Dean know of our arrangement; you made him conscious of me.” 

Lying on his back, Castiel counted the cracks in the crumbling ceiling as he attempted to appear nonchalant towards the demon currently tearing in to his vessel. 

“I mean, how could someone be so dense though? It’s been weeks, months, of images, memories, dreams.” Each word ripped wounds into Castiel’s chest. “I wanted him to see them, angel. I wanted him to see the wonderfully treacherous acts his hands, our hands, have inflicted upon you—you—the sole idol left in his pathetic, human life.”

The dull knife traced and etched into Castiel’s human form. It wasn’t the worst pain that had been inflicted upon him by the demon.

“So, now, he knows. Finally,” the demon drawled. “I can barely contain myself!”

Bracing himself for a brute stab, Castiel winced as the blade scraped gently against him without breaking the skin. Relaxing, Cas sighed, closed his eyes, and dropped his head back on to the table. He heard four distinct clicks as his hands and feet were released from their bonds. Puzzled, Castiel squinted up to Dean’s figure. 

“What are you doing?” Castiel croaked. 

“We’re done for today. Give my best to my host,” the demon smiled. Then, he was gone. 

Castiel continued to lie on the silver table until his wounds were healed by his grace. For several minutes, he weighed and measured every syllable the demon uttered to him, but found nothing to help free Dean. 

Slowly and carefully, he sat up and looked around the room. Nothing seemed different from every other encounter. Flashing one last gaze across the dungeon, he disappeared. 

\--

Dean was exactly where Cas believed he would be. Sleeping soundly in a motel room on the opposite bed as Sam. He stood near the door, watching and waiting for one of the Winchesters to stir from his sleep. 

The hours passed in mere seconds to Castiel as he thought about the demon and composed every memory of past demonic possessions that he could remember. His mind wandered, and his eyes began to feel heavy. 

“Castiel?” 

He raised his head quickly at his name and looked toward Dean’s sleeping figure resting peacefully on the thin bed. 

“Sam,” Cas muttered as he turned to face the younger Winchester.

Standing from the bed, Sam pulled on a jacket, poured a glass of water, and motioned for Castiel to sit with him at the small, wooden table that the motel offered. 

“What’s going on, Cas? Why are you here?” Sam questioned innocently. 

The angel took a deep breath and looked up to Sam’s worried face. 

“It’s about your brother,” Castiel started hesitantly. “I don’t know if Dean has told you yet since he’s been… occupied… But you need to know.”

“Know what?”

“When I raised your brother from perdition, part of the demon he became attached itself to his soul. Apparently, I couldn’t purify what he was. Not entirely.”

With a piercing gaze, Sam scoffed and pushed his hands through his hair in frustration. 

“You mean to tell me, that my brother has a demon inside him? Not just any demon, but _his_ demon,” Sam hissed. “So, I have demon blood flowing through my veins, and, now, my brother does too? This couldn’t get any worse, Cas!” 

Castiel’s eyes dropped to his own hands. 

“Oh, God, Cas, this couldn’t get any worse, right?” Sam whispered. 

“I’ve made a deal with the demon within him. He can’t hurt anyone, but, obviously, we can’t trust him.”

Sam nodded, clearly containing the spectrum of his emotions even though he appeared to visibly relax.

“Okay, so what do we do? How can we get rid of it? I mean, we are going to have to separate it from Dean’s soul, first, before we can kill it. What’s the plan?” Sipping the water from his glass, Sam eyed Castiel. “You do have a plan, right?”

Slowly, Castiel shook his head. “I don’t know what to do, Sam. I need your help.”

“What do you need me to do?” Sam asked as he leaned forward eagerly awaiting orders. 

Again, Castiel shook his head. “Research. Other than that, I’m not sure yet.”

“Okay, I can do that,” Sam agreed. 

Silently, Castiel’s eyes drifted over to Dean. He was breathing steadily and, even though he was sleeping, he appeared exhausted. 

“And watch over him,” Castiel breathed to Sam. 

A small smile itched against Sam’s mouth. “You do a pretty good job of that yourself, Cas.”

“It’s my duty,” Castiel responded too quickly as he faced Sam again. 

“Are you sure it isn’t more than that?” Sam murmured to Castiel. He took a gulp of water as the angel stared curiously at him. 

“What do you mean?” the angel asked, sincerely confused. “He’s under my responsibility. I’m his guardian. Besides, it’s my fault that we are even in this predicament.”

“Okay, first of all, no one’s blaming you. It isn’t your fault,” Sam interrupted quickly. “Second, what I’m talking about is the way you look at him when he’s not looking, and the way he checks you out when you look away,” he explained casually. 

Squinting his eyes, Castiel tried to decipher what Sam was trying to imply. 

“I don’t understand.” 

“You like Dean, right?” Sam replied blatantly. “He likes you, too.”

Castiel stared blankly at Sam; then, turned to glance at Dean.

“Alright.” Sam cleared his throat, grabbed the keys to the Impala, and toed into his boots. “You look pitiful, Cas. Why don’t you stay, rest, and watch Dean, and I’ll start reading up on demon lore. I’ll be at the library if you need me.”

Suddenly feeling too warm and too constricted, Castiel loosened his tie. 

“Yeah, okay.”

Pushing the door open, Sam flashed him a small, huff of a smile before crossing the threshold and closing the door quietly behind him.

\--

He was running. Running towards someone, running away from something. Running out of time. He had no idea. He just knew that he had to keep running. Keep moving. Keep going as fast as he could. His legs beneath him blurred with the dirt and grass. He wasn’t able to define the difference between his body and the earth or his body and the sky. 

He could hear something, a voice—high pitched screeching. His legs fumbled as his head jerked towards the sky, left to right, looking for the owner of the voice. 

_Castiel!_

The noise grew louder filling Dean with the intended words. He shut his eyes as he continued to run blindly. If he could just focus on the words he could understand. 

_Go!_

The word pierced through him like venom. 

_Leave me…my choice…for you…go!_

He understood now. He was running from something. Running away from the fight. But, he was also running away from Castiel. He slowed his pace, and turned towards the shining, white light that erupted over the horizon behind him.

Castiel’s true voice ripped through his mind and body. 

_DEAN!_

He jolted awake as the sound exploded within his mind. 

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel said from the unused side of the bed. “What were you dreaming about?”

Quickly, Dean jerked the covers off of his sweating body, and eyed the angel beside him.

“Getting your kicks by watching me sleep again?” he muttered impatiently. 

“I’m watching over you,” Castiel stated mechanically. 

Peeling himself from the bed, Dean stumbled to the bathroom and quickly washed his face and brushed his teeth. In truth, he wasn’t freaked about Castiel’s protective nature, but it was odd for someone, other than Sammy and Bobby, to give two shits about him. 

“Where’s Sammy?”

“Library. He left three hours ago.”

Toweling his face dry, Dean propped himself against the door frame and stared at the angel sitting statuesque on his bed. His posture didn’t look inviting, but his ever staring gaze made Dean blush. His blue eyes were piercing—as always—and there seemed to be a hint of a smile on his lips. 

Dean cleared his throat. 

“How are your wings?”

Hunching his shoulders, Castiel seemed to flex his invisible wings. 

“Fine,” Cas said warmly. “Thanks to you.”

Dean smiled and tossed the damp towel to the bathroom sink. Then, he seated himself beside Castiel. 

“Any news on the demon?” Dean asked. 

“He is aware that you know a demon resides within you,” Castiel breathed and shrugged his shoulders. “As is Sam.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “You told Sam?”

“Yes, of course.” 

The silence engulfed them as Dean nodded. He was relieved that he didn’t have to break the news to Sam. He didn’t want to see the hurt and fear in Sammy’s eyes as he learned what Dean once was—what he still might be. As his thoughts wandered, Dean and Cas’ conversation seemed unimportant compared to just their company. The scarce brush of the tan trench coat against his jacket. The way their knees touched slightly. Dean already felt safer and happier having Castiel beside him. He was a reassurance that Dean was worthy of something. Of what? It didn’t matter.

“You do know that Sam would never abandon you. Especially now,” Castiel stated reassuringly. “He’s your brother, and he would do anything for you.”

“I know,” Dean smiled sadly; then, he lifted his eyes to meet Castiel’s warm gaze. “Would you?”

A grin itched on the corner of Cas’ mouth. “Yes, of course I would, Dean.”

Then, with a slight whoosh, Dean was the only person left in the room.


	3. More Than Once

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes things appear simple, yet they are actually more complicated.

“From what I’ve read, there hasn’t been a single demon in the history of hunters that has ever been attached to a human soul,” Sam sighed as he slammed yet another dusty book closed. 

Dean raised an eyebrow as he looked up from his own demonic research to his brother across from him. 

“Hey, no worries,” Dean said as he tossed his book onto the pile on the floor. “We’ll figure it out, just like we always do.”

Sam huffed and leaned forward to run his fingers through his hair to massage away his headache. 

“I mean, even Cas doesn’t know what to do,” Sam groaned. 

“Yeah, well, eventually, something will turn up.”

Nodding, Sam rose from his seat and strode to the motel’s kitchenette. He grabbed their first beers of the day from the fridge; then, he returned to his seat as he offered one to Dean.

Gladly, Dean popped the top and took a refreshing gulp. 

“How are you feeling anyway?” Dean asked. “You know, with the whole demon blood psychic thing.”

Sam lowered his beer and raised his eyebrows in response. “I’m fine, Dean. It hasn’t really been an issue. My visions haven’t returned. Nothing seems out of whack. I feel normal.” 

Seemingly satisfied, Dean pursed his lips and nodded his head before sipping from his drink. 

“That’s good, great even,” Dean assured. “No more Jennifer Love-Hewitt moments or Freaky Friday crap.” 

‘Uh, yeah, I guess,” Sam said clearing his throat. “So, since we reached a dead end with the demon lore books, maybe we should take it to the next step.” 

Dean narrowed his eyes in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Capture a demon. See if it can give us any answers?” Sam suggested. “In fact, I found a lead online from a town three hours away.”

“We can give it a shot,” Dean nodded. “We can leave in five minutes if you’re ready.”

“Well, I’m ready when you are.”

\--

The car ride passed quickly thanks to Dean’s tape collection of AC/DC and Led Zeppelin. 

They pulled in to the subdivision where the break-in happened and found the house still wrapped warningly in neon caution tape. Dean parked the Impala around the corner; then, the brothers armed themselves before cutting between houses to sneak into the crime scene. 

Entering the house, Dean motioned his flashlight for Sam to take the left as he took the right. They split up, and Dean began searching his side of the house for any signs of demonic omens.

As he finished searching a bedroom, his light picked up a glint between two floorboards. He leaned down and wiped his finger against the dust. 

“Sulfur,” Dean whispered. 

He heard Sam’s heavy footsteps as he stood to meet back up in the living area. 

“Demon was definitely here,” Dean muttered to Sam as he held up his finger caked in yellow dust. “Find anything?”

“Maybe,” Sam replied. “I think our demon might be a regular at the Hallow’s Bar in town.” He flicked a business card between his fingers. “Definitely not the families. It was caught in a bathroom air vent. Smells like sulfur, too.” 

“Alright, good enough for me. Let’s go.” 

Dean led the way as they crept through the back door and followed their way back to the car. Their footfalls were quiet against the padded grass. 

“Wait,” Dean breathed as he held a hand up to stop Sam. “Something’s not—”

On queue, a man with pitch black eyes jumped from the side of one of the houses and swung two punches that Dean easily avoided. Sam lunged forward in hopes to restrain the demon, but another one appeared and kicked Sam in the side causing him to stumble. Dean held his own against the demon before him while Sam kicked out at the other one. 

“Well, well,” the demon whistled, “If it isn’t the Righteous Man Turned Demon and Azazel’s favorite demon child. I thought my day couldn’t get much better. I can’t wait to drag you both back to Lilith.”

Sam scurried to his feet as he knocked a solid punch into the possessed man above him. Behind him, he heard Dean busily fighting his own fight. Raising his hand, Sam restrained the demon. Then, he turned his hand fiercely as the demon began choking on it’s own black smoke until the surviving human hit the ground with a thud. 

Dean grunted as he threw a solid kick into the chest of the demon fighting him. 

“That’s all you got?” the demon laughed. “You’re seriously pathetic. Not much of a human or a demon.”

Suddenly, Dean felt that darkness stir within him like it did when he felt Castiel’s charred feathers. He closed his eyes and willed it away. 

“A half-demon can’t do any better?”

Then, he lost consciousness as the demon took over. 

Dean’s eyes turned black, and he smiled as he punched the mocking demon ten feet back into a heap of pain followed by unconsciousness.

“I’m not a half-demon, you insolent swine.”

He turned to Sam. 

“Well, hello, Sam Winchester,” Dean said as his eyes flickered black. 

“Get out of my brother!” Sam shouted as he raised a hand to Dean’s form. 

He raised his arms with an exasperated sigh. “Try all you want, but your little abilities won’t work on me. I’m special. So why don’t you do something useful and truss up that demon I knocked out for you,” he smirked. “I’ll keep it a secret from Dean-o.”

“What are you doing here?” Sam asked still unwavering. 

“Relax, Sam. I’m not going to hurt you. I don’t want to hurt you. You’re Azazel’s chosen one,” his teeth gleamed in the darkness. “Besides, I made a deal with the ravishing angel Castiel. I can’t hurt anyone. I’m under oath.”

“I have no reason to trust you,” Sam said fiercely. 

“Oh, I’m not asking you to trust me,” the demon laughed. “Now, you better get that demon locked up before Dean here wakes up.” 

Dean’s eyes dropped closed and his body sank to the ground. Rushing forward, Sam checked Dean’s pulse and sat him up against a nearby tree. Then, he dragged the demon’s lifeless body to the Impala and hauled their hostage into the trunk inlaid with a demon’s trap. Minutes later, he returned to Dean’s side as his eyes fluttered open. 

“Sammy?” he choked out. 

“Hey, Dean, I’m right here,” Sam said confidently. “Stand up so I can help you to the car.” 

Sam pulled Dean to his feet and half carried him to the Impala. Taking the keys, Sam drove to the nearest abandoned building he could find. 

\--

“Start talkin’, chuckles!” Dean shouted at the tied up demon. 

“Like I’m gonna help you take care of your pest problem,” he replied rolling his eyes. “How long before that gets into those thick skulls of yours? I have Hell to raise, after all.”

Dean tossed holy water at the demon and felt satisfied as it burned into him. Picking up the demon knife, Dean moved to embed the blade into the demon’s thigh. Then, Sam gripped Dean’s arm and spun him around. 

“Maybe I should be doing this,” Sam suggested. “Alone.” 

Feeling his smile fall, Dean shook his head. 

“I’m fine, Sam.”

Lowering his voice, Sam glowered. “No, you’re not, Dean. The demon inside you possessed you last night. I’m pretty sure it was triggered by this demon, and since we don’t know for sure, I think you need to leave,” he stated. “Dean, you’re enjoying this too much.”

“He’s a demon, Sam! Of course I’m enjoying it.” 

Sam raised his eyebrows as Dean realized he just proved his point. With an annoyed huff, Dean handed the blade to his brother before pushing through the flaking, wooden doors. 

“Drama queen, isn’t he?” the demon grinned up at Sam. 

Setting the knife down, Sam took a seat in front of the demon. “Tell me how to separate a demon from a human soul.” 

“Please,” the demon smirked. “That’s not even hypothetically possible.” 

\--

Pacing the creaking floor, Dean chastised himself. He could hear Sam and the demon mumbling through the doors, and it took all of his strength not to eavesdrop. 

He groaned and slapped his palm to his face. Standing, he rummaged through his duffle bag and pulled out a shotgun. He sat at the small table and busied himself by idly disassembling the firearm only to reassemble it again. 

“Enjoying it,” Dean scoffed to himself. “I wasn’t enjoying it.” 

“You were,” he heard someone say. 

Surprised, Dean looked up. He was the only one in the room. Looking around the area, he caught his reflection in a broken mirror hanging crooked on the wall. As black eyes flashed across his image, he took a double take and a deep breath. 

“You aren’t seeing things, Dean,” his lips moved against his will. 

Suddenly, he found himself standing before the mirror. His eyes black. 

“You!” Dean hissed. 

“Yes, me,” the demon within him smirked into the mirror. “Nice to get to talk directly to you for once.”

“What do you mean?” 

“Oh, Dean, I talk to you all the time. Usually through visions.” 

Dean’s eyes narrowed in anger. “You wanted me to see those dreams? Those memories? You tortured Castiel!” Dean began. “More than once!” 

“Careful, Dean, that boiling rage only makes my hold on you stronger,” the demon smiled wickedly. “Wouldn’t want me to take complete control and begin tearing into that fragile angel again while you watch.”

“Castiel is not fragile!” Dean said in exasperation into his reflection. 

“I can assure you that everything that seems indestructible has a weakness.” 

Rolling his eyes as they flicked back and forth from green and black, Dean clenched his mouth and fists. 

“Why are you here?”

“Just to assure you that I’m not going anywhere,” the demon responded. “You can do whatever fancy exorcisms you want. Spells, incantations, charms. You can try anything, but I’m a part of you Dean. I am you.”

“Yeah, well, we’ll see about that,” Dean swore into the mirror. 

“Talking to yourself?” Sam asked as he emerged from the opposite room. 

Dean turned suddenly and clapped his hands behind his back. 

“What? No,” he lied. 

Sam tilted his head and nodded slightly. “Okay.” 

Clearing his throat, Dean walked back to his seat. “So anything from the demon?”

“A bit, but it’s not good,” Sam exhaled as he sat with Dean at the flimsy table. “He doesn’t know a whole lot. He claims that he’s never heard of demons being melded with a human soul. Says it’s impossible.”

Dean shook his head and scoffed. “Typical.” 

“But, I mean, he’s just one demon, Dean. Other demons might know more.” 

“Yeah, well I know one demon who probably knows, but he won’t talk.” 

Narrowing his eyes, Sam pointed toward Dean. 

“Uh huh,” Dean confirmed. “So what are we gonna do with that demon in there?” 

Sam shrugged. “I already took care of him. Exorcism.” 

“I didn’t hear you perform an exorcism,” Dean said as his face twisted in confusion.

“Well, I guess you were just too busy looking in the mirror,” Sam laughed. 

“Yeah, yeah, save your breath, Rapunzel.” Dean leaned back in his wobbly chair. “So where to next?”

“Probably Bobby’s at this point, Dean,” he sighed, “But I think we need to set up some ground rules first.” 

“What do you mean?” Dean asked. “I don’t need ‘ground rules’.”

“I’m just saying that the less your demon gets triggered, the less you go AWOL,” Sam stated. “And, also, the less Cas becomes a slab of meat for this demon to cut into.” 

Dean dropped his eyes to the ground as images of bleeding, bruised, and broken Castiel crept into his mind. 

“Okay,” Dean agreed. “So we know that last night the flip switched when I was fighting with that demon.”

“Yeah, so no interactions with demons,” Sam stated. “Anything before that?”

“I don’t really know,” Dean replied honestly. “I didn’t even know it was happening until recently. You didn’t even notice, and you have spidey senses.” 

“Well, we can make them up as we go,” Sam said as he lifted himself from the table. “Lets drop this guy off somewhere safe. Then, we should call Bobby.”


	4. Sweet Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Have a little bit of salty and sweet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warnings for dubious consent

“Damn it, boys,” Bobby said condescendingly. “Why the hell didn’t you call me sooner?”

Sam shrugged and Dean let his gaze fall to Bobby’s dirty, faux Persian rug. 

“Seriously? Do only stupid ideas pass through those thick Winchester skulls of yours?” he asked as he poured Baileys into his coffee. 

“Alright, alright, we’re a couple of dumbasses,” Dean squabbled. “So do you know anything?”

Bobby took a sip from his mug and grimaced. “I’m gonna need something stronger than this Irish shit, aren’t I?” 

\--

At this point, Dean was afraid to fall asleep. 

The dreams were becoming more vivid. He could smell the rusting chains and the drip of blood. He could feel his eyes flicker to black. He could hear every groan of agony Castiel uttered as his hands sliced, burned, and bruised him. He saw every second, every pained expression, and he remembered it. 

But no matter how much he fought his exhaustion, Dean drifted off to sleep on his makeshift bed on Bobby’s living room floor. 

\--

He was humming an eerie tune that echoed throughout the room. 

“Sweet dreams are made of this,” the demon sang as he moved about. 

Swaying his way to Castiel, he grinned as he folded up a piece of cloth in front of Castiel who was tied to a simple, brown chair in the middle of the dark, damp room. The demon’s eyes dropped to black as he stooped down and secured a bandana taut across Castiel’s mouth to muffle his noises—even though no one was around for miles.

The demon smiled down at him once it was in place. “Who am I to disagree?” 

He continued to whistle the melody as he filtered through his table of supplies. His fingers caressed different blades, and he took his time picking through his selection. Castiel’s eyes fell shut as the demon weighed each weapon. 

“Everybody’s looking for something,” he sang softly and picked up an odd contraption. 

The angel’s eyes widened as the demon pulled his hair back to expose his neck. Then, a collar was strapped around his neck and a metal bar stood stiffly between his throat and sternum. If he let his head fall forward, he could feel sharp teeth bite into his flesh under his chin and at the top of his chest. The demon hummed and paced back at the table.

“Hold your head up,” the demon chanted. “Keep your head up.”

He repeated the lyrics multiple times as he devised what he wanted to do next. His hands traced along knives, but looking at Castiel’s outstretched neck and lowered eyes, he reconsidered. 

Slowly, he moved behind the angel and sucked on Cas’ skin above the collar. He nipped at his pulse point as he whispered more of the song against his flesh. Castiel strained his neck farther back as he felt his head lolling forward into the sharp fork poking into his skin. He could feel prickles of blood beginning to form already, even without the added pressure of his head weighing down on the device. 

“Some of them want to use you,” the demon hissed. A hand slid its way down Cas’ thin, white button up and under the fabric. “Some of them want to get used by you.” 

The demon ripped the shirt open and pushed the tattered cloth to the side to expose Castiel’s torso. Slinking out from behind Cas, the demon sat on Cas’ lap and watched as Castiel struggled to keep his head far enough back as he tried to keep his gaze on the demon. 

With one hand, the demon swirled a finger across Castiel’s chest and stomach. 

“Some of them want to abuse you,” he sang. Then, he lowered his body so he was out of Castiel’s possible eyesight and bit down into the sides of Castiel’s body. 

The bandana muffled the surprised cry that Cas made. He willed to be able to watch what the demon was doing to him, but the heretic’s fork prevented him from looking down to the demon’s actions. 

The demon’s teeth dragged across his sensitive skin, and the marks began to bleed from the demon’s deep bite. “Some of them want to be abused.”

Fingers hooked and pulled underneath Castiel’s dress pants and without thinking, Cas looked down. The spike pushed deeper into Castiel’s breastbone and his throat. He let out a choked out sob beneath his gag. However, the demon didn’t let up and he began to suck hard bruises across Castiel’s hipbones and stomach while randomly sinking his teeth into the flesh enough to draw blood. 

Castiel moaned into the gag and a single, frustrated tear dripped from his eye. He couldn’t watch. He couldn’t vocalize his thoughts. He couldn’t anticipate. All he could do was feel Dean’s mouth working dark, possessive marks on his body. 

Smiling, the demon looked up at Castiel and sang once more. 

“Sweet dreams are made of this.”

\--

Dean gasped awake. Instinctually, he looked over to the couch and felt relief that Sam was sleeping comfortably. Then, worry etched into him. 

“Cas?” Dean whispered to the ceiling. The word carried his emotions with him. It was a silent prayer that begged Castiel to be in one piece. 

What he didn’t expect was for a flutter of wings to appear from the kitchen. 

Turning, Dean looked over his shoulder to see the angel standing near the counter top. Carefully, he stood and tiptoed over the less creaky floorboards to Castiel. He sighed a breath of relief as he clapped a hand on to Cas’ shoulder; then, Dean pulled him into a hug. 

“Thank God,” Dean whispered as he clutched at Cas’ trench coat. He nuzzled his head into the crook of Castiel’s neck. 

Cas tentatively wrapped his arms around Dean and pressed a comforting hand to the base of his head. “Hello, Dean.”

Huffing, Dean’s breath was hot against his throat before he pulled out of the hug. His hands remained on Castiel’s shoulders. 

“Umm, sorry, Cas,” he breathed as he lowered his head and hands. “I’m so sorry. For everything.” 

“Dean,” Cas choked out. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s not your fault.” 

“Doesn’t mean I don’t feel bad about it,” Dean whispered hoarsely. “I’ve seen you now, broken and beaten at my own hands, and I can’t… I can’t, Cas. Because I…I, umm, care about you. God forbid, I do. And probably more than you think I do.”

“Look at me, Dean,” Castiel said softly. 

He wiped at his eyes before tears could threaten to spill over, and with a shake of his head, Dean refused to look back up at Castiel. He didn’t want to see the blood and the bruises that had been imprinted in his mind. 

Suddenly, he felt strong arms lift him up; then, he was gently placed onto the counter. Castiel’s hands slid up and down his upper arms and eventually rested around his neck. As Dean sagged his head, the angel’s face was directly in his line of sight while Cas’ fingers rubbed smoothly across Dean’s skin. 

“Dean, I’m fine,” Castiel reassured. “Look at me. No wounds. No pain. Nothing.”

Reaching up, Dean set his arms around Cas’ shoulders. “Not right now.” 

With a sad smile, Castiel ran his fingers through the side of Dean’s hair and Dean leaned in to the touch. His eyes dropped closed, and he took a deep breath. 

“It’s okay,” Cas breathed. “I’m okay.” 

Exhaling, Dean opened his eyes and was met with the bright, exhilarating blue of Cas’ eyes. He could feel the warmth of Cas’ skin and breath only inches away. Subtly, Dean leaned forward and hoped that maybe Cas could take the hint. He’d already exposed his feelings, but Castiel didn’t seem too dismantled about his confession. As Dean’s thoughts narrowed to the angel’s mouth on his, he licked his lips. 

Cas let out a shaky breath and his hands pushed through Dean’s hair as he brushed his lips against Dean’s. It was simple, just a touch.

Moments passed, and Dean couldn’t take the intimacy much more. He crashed his mouth against Castiel’s. He nipped lightly against Cas’ bottom lip and licked his way into a dirty kiss. Cas ran his hands down Dean’s torso before slipping them to cup Dean’s ass and pull him in closer along the countertop. Dean groaned lightly. 

Eventually, their kisses slowed and they rested their foreheads together. 

“Please, Cas,” Dean begged quietly into Cas hair. “Call off the deal with the demon.”

Cas took a step back and gently traced Dean’s fingers. “Dean, I can’t—I won’t—because if I do, he will hurt others. People could die.” 

“So?” Dean breathed in a broken gasp as he ran a thumb across Cas’ cheek. 

“Dean, you know I’m doing the right thing. It’s the best option. No matter how much you don’t want to see it that way,” Cas said. 

Dean adverted his eyes from Cas’ intense stare. “I wish I could fix this.”

“I know. So do I,” he sighed. “And we will. But I have other things to worry about too. Lilith has broken over half of the seals. You’ll be needed as soon as we figure out which ones she plans to break next.” 

Sighing, Dean gripped Castiel tight, hugged him against his chest, and kissed the top of his head.

“I wish I didn’t have to let you go,” Dean said. “You could just stay here instead of prancing off with the flying douchebags.” 

Laughing lightly, Castiel nodded. Then, he looked up and kissed Dean once more. 

“I’ll be in touch,” he said. He tucked a strand of Dean’s hair back; then, he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this one is so short. more coming soon :)


	5. Equivocation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting some answers.

“Hey, Bobby,” Dean greeted as he hobbled into the kitchen. “Seen Sammy anywhere?” 

“Uh, yeah, he went for a jog about an hour ago. He didn’t want to wake you; said you needed a good sleep. He was right. You look ten times better,” Bobby replied as he noticed Dean’s easy grin; then, he poured a cup of coffee for him. “When he comes back we’re gonna meet up with an old friend of mine. Psychic. She might be able to help out.”

Grasping the warm mug, Dean nodded as he sipped in the warmth and sat at the old, wooden table. 

“Awesome,” he smiled. 

“Well, you sure are chipper for someone who has an uncontrollable demon within them,” Bobby said with a raised eyebrow. 

Face reddening into a blush, he diverted his eyes from Bobby’s thoughtfully concerned face. “Like Sam said, I just needed one good night’s sleep.” 

“Mmhmm,” Bobby hummed with a smirk. “Y’sure it doesn’t have anything to do with a certain pair of fluffy wings?” 

Dean’s eyes shot up and his face burned. Thankfully, the front door opened, and Sam stumbled upon them. 

“Hey,” Sam said. “Woah, Dean,” he grinned, “What’s got you all flustered?” 

“Maybe you should ask C—” Bobby started, but was interrupted. 

“We’re heading out in five minutes!” Dean shouted as he dodged his way back into the living room. 

Sam chuckled and nudged Bobby’s shoulder. “Bout time don’t you think?” 

\--

Hours later, Sam, Dean, and Bobby were standing on the front porch and ringing the doorbell of a simple house in a quiet neighborhood. Opening the green door, a young woman with dark hair appeared smiling at them. 

“Bobby!” she exclaimed as she wrapped him into a tight hug. Then, she pulled back and observed the brothers. “You boys must be Sam and Dean Winchester. I’m Pamela,” she smiled and held the door open wide. “Come inside.” 

The interior of the house was much darker than the normal, urban façade. Sigils were painted and etched into the walls and floors, human skulls and bones were arranged as décor above the fireplace, and strange trinkets littered the bookcases and tables. 

Pamela lead them to what appeared to be a living area. Motioning for the boys to sit at the table, Pamela turned to take the heavy book that Bobby brought with them.

“So, looks like it’s gotta be a séance,” Pamela muttered as her eyes flickered down the pages that Bobby tabbed the day before. “Also, seems that Dean and I are going to have to do this alone,” she smirked and added a wink in Dean’s direction. 

Sam cleared his throat. “Careful, Pamela, a certain angel might come down and smite you,” he said with a grin as Dean tucked his chin in to his chest to avoid embarrassment.

Smiling widely, Pamela laid the book open on the table. 

“Oh, I know all about Castiel,” she said. “Besides, you have a mighty fine ass, Sam.”

Laughing, at Sam’s blush, Pamela winked at Sam before throwing herbs and bones into a shallow bowl on the table. Eventually, Pamela finished adding the ingredients to the container; then, she struck a match and let the burning aroma fill the room. Motioning for Sam and Bobby to leave, Pamela sat across from Dean at the round, cloth-covered table. 

“Ready to get started?” Pamela asked gently as she reached her arms across the table to grasp Dean’s hands. Dean nodded, so Pamela closed her eyes and began a low chant of syllables he couldn’t recognize. 

Dean looked around, unsure of what to do. Then, Pamela muttered a different sequence of words and Dean felt the demon stir. The phrases invoked that darkness within him, and he steered from it. He didn’t want to lose control here.

“I invoke, conjure, and command you: Show me your face!” Pamela ordered. 

His eyes fluttered closed and he struggled to keep the demon at bay. It began ripping at his mind and tearing through his body. 

“Pamela! Stop!” Dean gasped as he fought his inner evil. 

“Dean, I’ve almost got him,” Pamela hissed. “Let go; let him surface.” 

“Wha—?” 

“I invoke, conjure, and command you,” she chanted. “I invoke, conjure, and command you… Show me your face!”

Succumbing to the rising demon, Dean felt his consciousness fade. 

“I invoke, conjure, and command you,” she muttered. 

“Well, well, you are one intelligent, persistent woman,” the demon whispered as his eyes flickered black. “What can I do for you?”

“Your deal with Castiel,” Pamela started. “Is it still in affect?” 

“Can’t do harm to anyone except him.” the demon smirked. “And oh how I love doing harm to him. In fact, you have ten minutes, I think, before the hold on me dissipates. So the faster you move this along, the sooner I can tear into his sweet flesh again.”

Pamela hummed and crossed her arms. “What is your association with Dean?”

Hisses of laughter fell from the Dean’s mouth. “Association? I am Dean. I am the part of Dean that spent a decade in hell ripping, tearing, and demolishing soul after soul. I’m the part of Dean that enjoys damnation.” 

“You’re being so compliant,” she smiled. 

“Not like I’m telling you anything you don’t already know,” he grinned back. 

“Okay,” Pamela said. “So, answer this: if I were to split Dean’s soul in half, would you be free to leave his body?” 

The demon kept his stretched smile across his smug face. “Oh, honey, I can leave this meat suit if I wanted to, but I prefer it. You should see Castiel’s face when he sees the love of his life breaking more than his heart.” 

“So everything has to do with Castiel?” Pamela asked as her eyebrows furrowed. “Why?” 

“As it began with him, so it shall end with him,” the demon replied somberly. 

\--

“It’s so quiet,” Sam whispered. “How do you think it’s going in there?”

Bobby kept pacing back and forth. “Good, I hope.”

The silence stretched between them interrupted only by Bobby’s heavy foot falls. 

“Hey, Bobby,” Sam said. “How do we know if we end up doing the right thing anyway? What if we figure something out, and it ends up killing Dean?”

“We don’t,” Bobby sighed as he plopped on to the couch next to Sam. “We can never know anything for sure, son. But we are going to try everything we can.” 

“Even if it’s wrong?” Sam asked lowering his eyes to look at his hands. 

“Where is this coming from Sam?” Bobby’s eyes narrowed in concern as Sam shrugged. “You know as well as I do that sometimes the road of good intentions ends up flying back to bite us in the ass, but that doesn’t mean that it is always wrong or evil.” 

For extra measure, Bobby slapped a comforting pat to Sam’s back. A thankful smile itched at the corner of Sam’s mouth. 

“We’ll figure this out. Just like we always do,” Bobby reassured. 

Sam nodded. 

The lights flickered lightly and a gust of air whipped through the room. 

“What is she doing?” Castiel asked before awkwardly taking a seat on a nearby chair. 

Sam and Bobby both lowered their weapons that they instinctually pulled from their jackets. 

“Hi, Cas,” Sam said in exasperation as he tucked his knife away. “Umm, she’s doing a séance on Dean’s demon. Why are you here?” 

“Well, I felt the demon being summoned; however, he did not appear at our usual rendezvous location, so I looked for him and found him here. Tethered and being interrogated,” Cas said abruptly. “Any response yet?”

“We won’t know until Pamela is finished,” Bobby stated. 

“I was afraid as much.” 

Sinking lower into the chair, Cas rested his head in his hands and let out a deep sigh. 

“Cas, don’t take this the wrong way,” Sam said clearing his throat. “But, why don’t you get some rest? You look exhausted.”

“Angels don’t need to sleep.” 

“Maybe, but that doesn’t mean you can’t.”

“Sam, thank you for your concern,” Cas said with a small smile. “I appreciate it, but I’m fine.” 

Sam’s response was halfway to his lips when the door to the opposite room swung open. All three men stood at once. 

“Wow, a standing ovation, thank you,” Pamela stated with a sarcastic curtsy. “Hello, Castiel. I was wondering if you’d turn up.” 

“What did you discover?” the angel asked as calmly as he could though his arms rose in questioning. 

Her lips tilted down in a small smile, and she shrugged. 

“Nothing we didn’t already know,” she replied. “He’s extremely stubborn, and he knows how to beat around the bush.”

Castiel’s shoulders seemed to hunch farther as the shred of hope left his body. 

“Where’s Dean?” Sam interjected with a quizzical look. 

“The demon took off with him as soon as the spell wore off. I presume he’s waiting for Castiel,” she replied sadly. Then, she turned to face Cas with a sorrowful face. “I’m so sorry, honey, but I might’ve thrown gasoline on the fire tonight.” 

Castiel nodded tersely. “I’ll be going then.” Turning to face Sam and Bobby, he added, “Let me know if you discover anything else.” 

Then, with a swift flutter, he was gone. They stood for a few minutes in silence, the weight of the world seemingly heavier knowing Cas’ immediate fate. Bobby shuffled closer to Pamela and eyed her meticulously. 

“What really happened, Pamela?” Bobby asked quietly. “And why didn’t you tell him?” 

“Because it would hurt him even more than he’s already hurting,” she said. “Y’all are gonna want some brandy for this conversation.” 

She turned abruptly and walked back through the door she had previously emerged from. Sam and Bobby filed after her into the kitchen and sat at the table while Pamela rummaged through her cabinets for three glasses, a bottle of liquor, and some chips. Then, she pulled her chair out as it slid noisily across the floor and she took a seat. 

“Before we get started, know that my house is warded from angel ears,” Pamela said as she munched on some chips. “Everything you say won’t be heard by any angels, including Cas, and our talk will be kept just between the three of us.”

Sam eyes narrowed. “Cas said he was able to find the demon here though?”

“Mmm,” she hummed. “His connection with the demon is stronger than the sigils, but I assure you that our conversation is private.”

Bobby grunted in compliance. “So what did you learn?” 

“It’s what you feared, Bobby, when we talked on the phone. The demon literally is Dean. It’s Dean’s soul, well, a part of it, anyway,” she said as she poured the tinted liquor into their glasses. “And there’s more. Everything has to do with Castiel,” she informed. “I don’t know how or why, but the demon practically revolves around him. It’s almost attached to Castiel, but we all know that demon’s are incapable of emotions,” she continued. 

Sam’s eyebrows rose as he held his cup close. “Well, maybe that’s not true,” he theorized. “What if the demon is feeding off of Dean’s emotions? On Dean’s relationship with Castiel? That could be the source linking them together.”

“That’s a possibility,” Bobby nodded. “But it could also be that the demon just wishes to torment both of them until they turn self destructive. A pride move.”

Pamela shrugged and gulped down her brandy. “That seems more likely.” 

The air was thick between them as the pondered on how Dean and Castiel’s fates rested in an uncertain abyss of the unknown. Bobby downed his drink and refilled it again. 

“Did you find out anything on how to kill it? Or at least separate it from Dean’s soul?” Bobby asked hoarsely. 

“He can leave freely, but he’s not going to. Not when he’s getting everything he wants from both Dean and Castiel,” she sighed. “And he said one more thing, something that sets off red flags in my mind, but I’m not entirely sure how it’s related to anything.” 

Sam leaned forward, his full glass sliding across the tabletop. “What is it? What did he say?” 

“Castiel started this, and it’s going to end with him, as well.”


	6. A Part of Me

Dean could hear Sam’s snores from the hotel bed beside him, but it didn’t distract his mind from going a thousand miles per second. Every thought jumbled together. 

His eyes traced over the pale ceiling that reflected the dark blue from the sky outside. He could hear the passing of the occasional car on the road just past the motel. He sighed and closed his eyes. 

If he was being honest, he was in pain. His heart felt heavy, his mind was numb, and his body seemed useless. He was playing host to some parasite that sunk its fangs into his life and hurt everything he loved. 

Sam grunted, and Dean heard the sheets rustle. 

“Hey,” Sam said sleepily. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing. Just thinking,” he replied. “You can go back to sleep.”

“Dean.” 

“Please, Sam. I’m fine, I just can’t sleep.” 

The mattress creaked as Sam moved to the edge of the bed. Dean didn’t have to look to know the concerned expression on Sam’s face. 

“I’m worried, too, you know,” Sam whispered. “You don’t have to pretend like you are unafraid. You wouldn’t be any less of a man being so.”

Dean kept his eyes shut as the words rolled over him. “I know,” he pondered; then, he cleared his throat. “I am scared, yeah.”

“I’d be concerned if you weren’t,” Sam huffed with a laugh. 

Looking up, Dean uncrossed his arms and smiled back to his brother. 

Suddenly, the lights flickered and the door burst from its hinges. The Winchesters were on their feet and armed by the time the dark haired woman strode into the room. 

“Rise and shine, boys,” she said. “Duty calls.”

Dean raised his gun. “Who are y—?” 

“Ruby? What are you doing here?” Sam interrupted as he lowed his weapon. 

“Ruby?” Dean repeated as he turned his head toward Sam. His gun didn’t stray from the brunette in front of him. “You told me Lilith killed Ruby back when I was a hellhound’s chew toy?” 

“Not exactly,” Sam exhaled as he walked over to Ruby. “She was tortured for the majority of the time you were in Hell, and she came to find me as soon as she could. She helped me, Dean.” 

Dean’s lips pursed as he silently calculated the time in his head. 

“Wait, wait,” he shook his head. “You’re saying you’ve known she’s been alive this entire time, and you didn’t tell me?” 

Ruby sighed deeply. “We don’t have time for this. Lilith is currently breaking a seal, and I need your help.” 

“Our help?” Dean asked as his face pinched up at the thought. 

“What do you need?” Sam responded as he began throwing stuff in his bag. Dean threw his arms up in exasperation.

“The warehouse is warded from demons,” Ruby answered, ignoring Dean. “I need at least one of you to slip in and stop the ritual from taking place.” 

Sam nodded and threw his bag over his shoulder. 

“You comin’?” Sam asked Dean. 

“You trust her?” 

His brother’s eyes softened and he nodded once. “With my life.” 

“Wow,” Dean exhaled. “Just like that?” 

“No, it’s taken time,” Sam looked after Ruby as she exited. “She’s good, I promise.” 

“If this goes sour, I’m gonna kill her,” Dean promised. “She’s a demon, Sam.” 

Sam huffed in annoyance and slid past him. “Yeah, Dean, so is a part of you.” 

\--

After an hour of awkward silence, Dean dimmed the lights of the Impala as the warehouse came into view. As Ruby stated, there were obvious sigils etched and painted on the outside of the building and most likely more inside. 

“Okay,” Dean said as he parked the Impala. “Here’s the plan…” 

“There are two high-class demons within the warehouse.” Ruby said. “There is one human, the victim, the sacrifice, however you want to perceive him or her. The seal calls to draw the blood from a descendent of David,” she continued as she pulled out a knife. “I can’t even touch the building until you boys disable some of the sigils, so I can get in. Then, we are going to find the human, kill the demons, and high tail it to Topeka.” 

“Yeah, that sounds fool-proof,” Dean rolled his eyes. 

“It is,” Ruby replied with a glower in her eyes. “Look, we just need to prevent the seal from breaking; then, we can go our separate ways.” 

“Fine.” 

“Fine,” she hissed. “You ready, Sam?”

Sam cleared his throat and opened his door. “Yeah, let’s go.” 

The doors creaked open as the three of them exited the car. Dean pulled the demon knife from his belt, and Sam held up his silver pistol. 

Creeping towards the entrance, Dean gestured for Sam to take the backside of the building. Ruby stood with her arms crossed as the brothers began scratching x’s over the symbols. 

“That should be good,” she whispered as she strode toward the door and thrust it open. 

“Yeah, sure, be any louder,” Dean hissed back at her, but, reluctantly, he followed her through the rooms as he muttered under his breath. 

Within moments, they stood peaking into the scene between two wooden panels. As Ruby stated, there were two large men chanting in synchronization, and another, smaller man strapped down to a table. From across the room, Dean spied Sam and nodded tersely. 

Ruby charged into the room first, and Sam lunged for the largest demon. Dean was halfway across the area to stab the other demon before he knew he was being watched. Turning, he came face to face with a weasel-like man. Instinctually, Dean hurled the knife into his chest and stepped back, but nothing happened. 

“Awe, Dean, it’s so cute to think you can kill me with a mere toothpick,” he said with a grin. Reaching up, the demon pulled the blade from his torso as he clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Not how I taught you, young grasshopper.” 

Dean felt the demon stir powerfully within him as memories of Hell came rushing back. 

“Alistair,” Dean frowned while suppressing the demon inside him. 

“Very good,” the demon smiled as he flashed the demon blade in his hands. “But, I have to say, I am pretty disappointed in you. After all of the knowledge of torture I passed down to you. You only rip into one angel?” he laughed dangerously as he turned the knife around his palms. 

Swallowing hard, Dean ignored the feeling of the demon scratching at his mind. 

_Not now. Not now._

_Yes, now,_ the demon urged. 

“No!” Dean hissed as he dropped to his knees and held his head in his hands. “Not now. Not now.” 

“Oh? Sensitive subject, Dean-o?” Alistair smiled. 

Dean looked up at Alistair through squinting eyes as waves of pain jousted through his body while he refused to give up ownership of his body to the demon. Moving forward, Alistair trailed the blade against Dean’s cheek and fisted a tight grip in Dean’s hair.

_Don’t be stubborn, Dean, or I’ll rip your insides to shreds._

Dean shook his head and breathed out, “No.” 

_I’ll rip Castiel to shreds. Worse than ever. Worse than you can even imagine. He won’t be able to use his wings ever again. He won’t be able to remember anything except pain. And it will be by your hand and because of you._

Alistair dragged the knife against Dean’s skin. His lips were moving, but Dean couldn’t hear anything. His consciousness was slipping. 

“Dean!” 

Suddenly, Alistair was against the wall, and Sam held one hand out as if holding him there. 

“Sammy?” Dean whispered as he felt himself waiver. 

The demon quit scratching at his mind, and he felt nauseous. Propping himself up, Dean slowly stood.

“We were too late,” Ruby sighed as she emerged beside Sam. “The seal is broken.” 

Sam’s fingers tightened and Alistair grinned like a madman. 

“You can’t kill me,” Alistair jarred to Sam. “You’re not strong enough.” 

“Maybe, but I can still send you back to Hell.” 

Dean watched as Sam’s hand tightened into a fist, and blood dripped from his nose. Then, smoke fell from Alistair’s mouth and hit the floor in a swirl. 

“Sam?” Dean asked slowly. 

\--

“Dean, please, I’m only using these powers for good,” Sam argued. 

“What if they take over, huh? What if you can’t control it?” Dean pushed back. He picked up a rifle from the trunk, flipped the safety on, then tossed it back in. “These powers come from demon blood, Sam!”

“So?” Sam almost yelled as he threw his arms up defensively. “Doesn’t mean I am a demon, Dean!” His arms fell back to his sides with a slap, and he took a deep breath. Then, calmly, he continued. “They are a part of me, okay? And even if they were once intended to be evil, Dean, I am not evil.”

Pain flashed across Dean’s face. “Sammy, I know you aren’t.”

“Then, trust me,” Sam pleaded. “Please, just this once, trust me.”

After a moment, Dean pulled the trunk shut while worry traced his eyes. 

Nodding once, Dean walked around the Impala and pulled the driver’s door open before sliding onto the seat. As Dean started the engine, Sam huffed out a sigh; then, ducked into the passengers seat.


	7. Never Alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning for non-consent

He was angry. Even though his eyes were pitch black, Castiel could see it. The irritation lurked behind his expression as if the demon couldn’t be satisfied. 

But Castiel could only stare. He was gagged and tied to a wooden support beam. 

His thoughts evaporated as the demon landed another blow close to his vessel’s lower stomach. Then, another. And another. Cas doubled over as pain shot through his body. 

“What are we going to do today, Castiel?” the demon hissed in his ear. “Using you as a punching bag doesn’t sate my need to watch the life fade from someone’s eyes.” 

Another punch. Lower this time. 

Then, his harsh hands were soft against the flesh of his stomach. 

Tenderly, the fingers dipped beneath Castiel’s dress pants, and the demon’s mouth was hot on his neck. His fingers wound around the belt loops and he pulled Castiel’s hips toward his own. Castiel whimpered as Dean’s mouth worked long, hard bruises against his skin. 

“I want to tear you apart,” the demon said between bites. “Rip in to your body and split you in two.” 

Castiel tried to pull away from the demon, but the ropes were tight. 

“Nuh-uh,” he hushed. “We made a deal, remember?” 

His fingers were sure as they unbuttoned Castiel’s pants and pulled the zipper down slowly. Within seconds, his hand pressed over the boxers into Cas’ crotch and wrapped around the fabric covering Cas’ member. 

“Definitely the most satisfying torture,” the demon grinned as he fit his body along Castiel’s enough that Cas could feel the grinding of Dean’s hips. 

Castiel tilted his head back. The pleasure running through his body wasn’t good. It was painful. It was unwanted. 

Desperately, he shook his head as the demon swirled his tongue against Cas’ collarbone. His mouth moved from neck to jaw. Then, with his mouth, the demon tugged the cloth free from Castiel’s lips before he sucked and bit on Castiel’s lower lip. Fitfully, Cas shook his head again and muttered out his refusal. 

The demon didn’t let up, and his hand tugged at the elastic of his underwear. 

“No,” he forced out. “Stop.” 

His words were swallowed by the demon as Dean’s tongue plunged into his mouth. Castiel leaned as far back as he could; then, he whipped his head forward and butted the demon in the head. Stumbling back, that the demon was no longer touching any part of Castiel. 

“I said, ‘No’,” Castiel repeated with his head held high. 

“Feisty today, aren’t we, Castiel?” the demon smiled menacingly. “Why don’t we put that to good use?” 

In a flash, the demon was close against him again as he zipped up Castiel’s pants and cut the ropes from the post. 

“Show me, Castiel,” the demon ordered as he rolled Dean’s hips once more against him. 

Almost instinctually, Castiel pushed the demon half way across the room. Staggering, the demon’s smile was broad enough to show teeth. 

“I don’t understand,” Cas said, eyes narrowing. 

“Fight me, Castiel,” he replied. “Show me what you’ve been forced to hold back.” 

“No.” 

“Afraid to hurt your beloved?” the demon sneered. With a wicked smile, the demon used Dean’s fist to punch himself in the jaw. 

“Stop!” Cas yelled a split second too late. 

“Fight me, Castiel. You can always just heal this body anyway,” he jeered. “Come on, Castiel, hit me with your best shot.” 

Dean’s demon lunged at him and Castiel quickly stepped aside to avoid the punch. The demon scowled as he corrected his footing. Then, in a split-second, he was throwing more blows at Castiel. The angel blocked and avoided each blow. 

“Fight back!”

Castiel shook his head slightly as he deflected a kick. Then, he caught Dean’s wrist and twisted the arm behind his back. 

“No,” he whispered to the demon. “I won’t hurt Dean.” 

With a slight push, Castiel released the demon. 

“You can harm me all you want, but Dean isn’t a part of this.” 

The demon laughed as he recovered from his stumble. 

“Dean’s not a part of this?” he chortled while straightening his stance. “I’m sorry; have you not seen the meat suit I’m wearing? Dean is at the very center of this. Just like you. Together forever, I suppose.” 

Snarling, Castiel rolled his shoulders back and stood tall, flashing menacing eyes. His concealed wings twitched in and out of manifestation and caused the hanging lights above to sputter electricity in yellow fits of rain. 

“Castiel. Angel-of-the-Lord Castiel,” the demon chided as he plucked up an angel blade from his cart of weapons. “This is going to be fun.” 

\--

Dean gasped and sat up. 

Breathing heavily, he ran his hands over his face and through his hair. 

“Bad dream?” Sam whispered from the other side of the room. 

“Wasn’t a dream,” Dean sighed deeply. 

“Oh.” Realization spread across Sam’s face. “I’m sorry, Dean,” he whispered.

Laboriously, Dean heaved himself from his makeshift bed on the floor and made his way to the table Sam had his files spread out on. To busy himself, Dean picked up a packet and sat down opposite his brother. 

“I have some of this organized,” Sam said as he shifted through his papers. “This is a nearby werewolf case I happened to pick up on. This is demon lore. And that—” Sam muttered as he pointed to the file in Dean’s hand, “That is possible cases concerning demonic and angelic possessions.”

“Awesome,” Dean huffed as he flipped the manila folder open. “Chattanooga, Raleigh, Pontiac?” he read aloud. “You traced demons to all of these towns?”

Exhaling, Sam nodded briefly. “Yeah. They’re not exactly hard to track down when the seals they are breaking shine like beacons.” 

Dean raised his eyebrows in agreement as he shifted in his seat. 

“So what do you want to tackle today? Werewolf since it’s close?” he suggested.

“Maybe,” Sam shrugged. “But I was just about to head out.” 

Looking up from the file, Dean tilted his head slightly and narrowed his eyes. “Where to?” 

“Uh, the library,” Sam replied as his chair scraped against the floor and he stood up. 

Forcing a smile, Dean flipped the next file into his lap and pretended to read it while Sam swung his arms into his brown jacket. Grabbing his phone and the car keys, Sam tucked his hair back behind his ears and started to the exit. 

Pulling the old, wooden door open, Sam turned back to Dean. “I’ll be back in a couple hours. Call me if you need anything.”

“Say hi to Ruby for me,” Dean stated as he turned the page on the Chattanooga case. 

“Really, Dean?” he said warningly. 

“Hey, if we are going to play this trust thing,” Dean started, “Then you have to tell me the truth.” His eyes flicked up fiercely. 

“Fine,” Sam murmured. “Yes, I’m going to see Ruby.”

Closing the door behind him, Sam left, leaving Dean alone with his nightmares and research. 

Sighing, Dean ambled through the abandoned house to the bathroom. The water didn’t work; however, Dean grabbed a bottle of water and brushed his teeth. Rinsing the sink with some water, Dean screwed the lid back on and put the bottle aside. 

His eyes flickered black. 

“Ugh, no,” Dean exhaled as he clenched the sides of the sink. “What do you want?”

“You are so angry,” the demon hissed from Dean’s mouth. “And so am I.” 

Dean’s fingers dug deeply into the rotting wood of the counter as his dream came rushing back. 

“Oh, you’re angry at me?” his lips moved in the mirror. “Didn’t like the show?” His tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth. “Sadly, you missed the best part. Castiel would not hit me back, but that didn’t stop me. His vessel was tattered. Just like his clothes.” 

“Enough!” Dean screamed into the mirror. Wielding his hand back, he lunged into the glass and shattered spider web cracks across the reflective surface. 

The demon used his voice to laugh. “That’s seven years of bad luck, Dean-o!”

“Shut up!” Dean yelled as he anchored his bleeding hands into his hair. 

“Maybe I should show you what else happens in that dungeon,” the demon hissed. “I know you think about it, but your tiny imagination could never fathom what your hands have done to Castiel. The slicing. The bruising. The touching.” 

Dean squeezed his eyes shut as his body collapsed to the floor. His hands pulled desperately in his hair while he rocked back and forth on the tile. “Stop! Stop!”

“You know, I choose what you remember, and I’m definitely leaving the best parts out. Memories that would make you much angrier than you’ve ever been,” his demon promised. “Your angel isn’t so pure anymore, Dean. If he ever was.” 

“No,” Dean whimpered. “No, Cas…” 

Gasping, his voice caught in his throat. His eyes were burning with unshed tears and blood dripping from his hands. 

“God, Cas… I’m so sorry.”

“That is enough.” 

Looking up at the new voice, Dean’s tears trailed down his cheeks, and he passed out in exhaustion.

\--

It was like lying on a cloud. So soft. So fluffy. His eyes fluttered open. Everything was so white. 

_I’m dead_ , he thought. _I’m dead, and I’m in heaven._

“No,” he heard a deep voice say followed by silence. “Yes, he will be fine. Of course.” A pause. “Okay. Goodbye.”

Then, something snapped shut. 

Trying to pull himself up, Dean grumbled and ended up collapsing back onto the down sheets with a long groan. 

“Cas,” he drawled slowly. “I can’t move.” 

He felt Cas’ breath on his skin as he huffed out a small sigh of laughter. 

“Good,” he whispered against Dean’s neck before placing a small kiss there. Quickly, he trailed kisses until he hovered slightly over Dean’s smile. 

Dipping down, Cas pressed warmly into Dean and kissed him. With one hand he supported his weight as the other threaded through his lover’s hair. Sweetly, he pulled back and planted short, chaste kisses on his lips that Dean pushed up into. 

Finally breaking away, Castiel tugged the blankets that were cocooned around Dean. Arms free, Dean tugged Cas down into a hug and kissed his hair. 

“Thanks, Cas,” he whispered, “Thanks for everything.” Quietly, he stroked the angel’s mussed up, dark hair. “You know that I would never hurt you, right? And I—” he coughed to keep his voice from wavering. “I won’t ever force you to do something you don’t want to do, okay?”

Castiel nodded underneath his moving palm. “I know, Dean,” he replied followed by a gentle brush of lips on skin.

Lifting Cas’ chin, Dean searched Cas’ expression for any hint of fear or resignation, but instead he saw another galaxy deep within those blue eyes. Somewhere filled with stars and different constellations. Leaning in, he pulled Cas in for another kiss, and his hand fisted into the silky sheets. 

Abruptly, he looked down at the bed then back at Cas. His eyes roamed the clean hotel room, but again settled on gazing at the angel beside him. 

“Umm, it’s a Bed and Breakfast. Kansas City. Sam is going to meet us here in about an hour,” Cas answered as he kissed along Dean’s cheek. “And you need to eat something,” he continued as he disentangled himself from Dean’s grasp, yet easily pulled Dean out of the bed with him. 

Smiling, Dean slid his hands around Cas’ smaller frame, and ran his fingers across the sides of his trench coat. 

“Or,” Dean started as he pushed the dirty trench coat off of Castiel’s shoulders. “We could meet Sam for dinner in forty-five minutes.”


	8. Laundry Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a difference between need and want.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> slight smut and fluff ;) 
> 
> obligatory shower scene, what...

It probably wasn’t the best burger he had ever eaten, but, God, did it seem like it. He moaned between bites and chewed slowly as Sam shot him an unnecessary bitch face from across the table. 

“Dude, gross,” Sam stated while he stabbed at his salad of yard clippings. 

“Hey!” Dean said defensively before taking another bite. “I’m starving!” 

With a hint of a smile, Castiel rested a hand on Dean’s thigh even as he chomped down on his own hamburger. 

“Well, I’m glad you’re feeling better,” Sam said between forkfuls of lettuce. “By the way, Ruby and I checked out that werewolf case. Turned out to be a rogue, rabid wolf. Nothing supernatural about it.” 

Dean nodded and looked over at Cas just in time to see him inhale half of his food. 

“Jeez, Cas, when was the last time you ate?” Dean asked curiously as he sipped his drink. 

Grunting, Cas swallowed another bite then shrugged.

“Somewhere around six months.” 

Dean spewed his soda across the table as he wiped his mouth desperately with his jacket sleeve. 

“Dude! Seriously?” Sam exclaimed as he raised his plate to rescue his food from the projecting liquid. He shot Dean an annoyed glance, and sat far back into his side of the booth. 

“What?” Dean said defensively. “He hasn’t eaten in six months, Sam!” 

“I don’t require food, Dean. I’m an angel,” Cas stated blandly before he took another large bite of food. 

“Yeah, yeah, just eat your damn burger,” Dean said while rolling his eyes. 

After dinner, the trio arrived back at the hotel laughing as they exited the Impala. There in the parking lot, Castiel grasped Dean’s hand and pulled him aside while Sam continued up the stairs to their room. 

“I have to go,” Castiel muttered as he laced his fingers between Dean’s. 

Dean’s smile faltered. He knew the angel had higher priorities to take care of, but it was so difficult to just let him go. 

“Okay,” Dean said shortly. 

“Dean,” the angel rasped as he gripped Dean’s hand tighter to prevent him from walking away. “I’m not abandoning you. My brothers have found traces that might lead us to Lilith as she breaks another seal. I wouldn’t leave if it weren’t urgent,” he sighed. “Honestly, much of the time, I’d rather be here.”

“I know, Cas,” the hunter whispered as he pulled the angel into a tight embrace. Lightly, he placed a kiss to the top of Castiel’s head. “Be safe out there.”

“I will,” Cas promised as he stepped back from Dean’s arms. 

Then, with a silent goodbye, he was gone. 

Sighing, he went up to the motel room where Sam was religiously analyzing an article on his screen. He toed out of his boots and peeled away his denim layers before falling easily into the soft bed. 

“We should stay at nicer places more often,” Dean mumbled into the silky sheets. 

Sam huffed a short laugh. “You’re turning into a softie, Dean,” he joked.

It was quiet besides Sam’s occasional tapping on the keyboard.

“Hey, uh, Sammy,” he muttered while turning his cheek to face Sam. “About yesterday…”

“Dean, stop,” Sam interrupted, “I should have been honest with you from the start. If anyone needs to be apologizing, it’s me.” He exhaled slowly. “And I really am sorry. Trust runs both ways, and you aren’t the only one who needs to work on it.”

“Okay,” Dean nodded slowly. “I’m going to do my best, but if something goes wrong…”

“It won’t,” Sam reassured. “And thanks.”

Muttering heavily, Dean flopped onto his back. “Alright, good talk. That’s enough chick-flick moments for one day.”

“I hope you mean the moments between you and Cas,” Sam smirked. Dean flipped him off, but he ignored Dean and resumed reading the article on demonic possession. 

The clicking of Sam’s laptop faded out as Dean fell asleep. 

\--

Dean twitched as his dreams turned to memories turned to nightmares. Burning wings. Bloody, dark hair. A hint of electric blue followed by dripping of crimson. Something silver. Agony. 

Pain. 

Screaming. 

_Dean!_

Blackness.

Then, a bright, white light burst through the darkness and purified his thoughts. Solid wings slipped around his body: firm and warm. Soft hair tickled along his skin as he fell into a dreamless sleep. 

\--

When Sam woke up two hours ago, he was surprised to see Castiel on the side of Dean’s bed. With a quiet shake of his head to Sam, Cas simply tucked himself close to Dean under the covers and closed his eyes while looping an arm over Dean’s side.

When the sun finally rose, Sam looked over again to see the angel still wrapped warmly against his brother. He smiled; then, silently snuck out of the motel room.

\--

Dean felt hot underneath the covers, and he didn’t know what was practically attached to him. Fumbling, he tried to move, but noticed there were legs intertwined with his and there was no way he could get up. Two cold, bare feet pressed into his calves and there was an arm draped over him. As his mind cleared, he recognized the feel of Cas, and his body melted into his embrace. 

After about ten minutes of lying still, Dean felt kisses being peppered along his shoulder blades. Each kiss became more open mouth and more wet against his hot skin. 

“Mornin’, Cas,” he sighed. 

Castiel only hummed in reply as he continued his caresses up Dean’s neck and jawline. Eventually, Cas pulled Dean onto his back so he could press his mouth against Dean’s. 

It was a long kiss making the past few hours seem like an eternity. It said, _Hello_ and _I miss you._ And, maybe, buried deep in that kiss as Castiel’s tongue slipped between Dean’s parted lips, was a confession, a commitment. But Dean didn’t want to think about that L-word, so he just kissed his angel back with the same ferocity and need that Castiel surged into the kiss. 

Once they pulled apart, they were breathless and smiling. 

“Hello, Dean,” Cas breathed. 

His eyes were so blue, hair incredibly messy, and lips still flushed from kissing. Dean felt a knot in the back of his throat as he just gazed upon the wonderful being in front of him, and he wrapped his arms tighter around the angel.

He felt a huff of breath against his neck as Cas let out a short laugh. 

“I’m not going anywhere, Dean,” Cas whispered. 

Reluctantly, Dean let his hold loosen so Cas could sit back. 

“Good,” Dean wheezed out. 

Dropping to the mattress, Castiel snuggled up close to Dean to rest his head against his upper arm, and Dean would definitely deny how much his heart began to flutter within his chest. 

“How have your nightmares been?” Cas asked quietly as his fingers traced odd symbols into Dean’s skin. 

Dean sighed as he carded his fingers through Castiel’s hair. 

“About the same as your sessions with my demon have been,” he replied somberly. 

A low groan slid from Castiel’s lips, and even though it was out of context, Dean felt the vibration go straight to his lower abdomen. 

“Perhaps we shouldn’t talk about it,” Cas whispered as he flattened his palm across Dean’s shirt and yawned. 

Looking down, Dean watched as Cas’ eyes fluttered closed. 

“You tired, Cas?” Dean asked with concern itching into his features. But Castiel was already breathing softly. Dean’s expression softened, and he dipped down to kiss Cas’ temple. 

_I’ll watch over you._

\--

The creaking of the door woke both Castiel and Dean with irritable groans. 

“Sorry!” Sam whispered as he shut the door with his foot. “Sorry! I just need to get my phone charger.” 

“Jeez, Sam, it’s okay,” Dean said sleepily. “God, what time is it?”

“It’s almost noon,” Sam replied softly as he pulled the door open again. 

Irritably, Dean slapped a palm to his face. “Noon? Seriously?” 

“Dean, it’s the first full eight hours of sleep you’ve gotten in almost a year. You needed it,” he said. Then, with a scraping from the door, he was gone. 

Groaning, Dean propped himself up on his elbow and ran his fingers across Cas’ cheek and into his hair. 

“Time to wake up, angel,” he said.

Burrowing closer, Cas pulled the covers higher over his head in attempts to keep the noise and light away. 

“Cas, come on,” Dean pleaded. “We need to get up.” His stomach growled. “And eat.” 

Taking a deep breath, his face scrunched up. “I need to shower.” He started peeling the layers of sheets from Castiel and saw his form covered in sweat and grime. “You need to shower.”

“I’m an angel of the Lord, Dean, I do not require bathing,” Cas sighed into the pillow.

“Yeah, but you might want to,” Dean smirked as he disentangled himself from Cas and rose from the bed. 

Peaking one eye open, Castiel watched as Dean pulled his shirt off and tossed it on the floor. Then, with a grin, Dean stepped out of his boxers, turned to the bathroom, and shook his hips as he walked.

Castiel stifled a laugh into the fluffy pillow. “Dean Winchester, are you trying to bribe me with sexual intercourse?” 

“Is it working?” Dean yelled from the bathroom as the water started. 

For the moment, everything was okay, and Castiel couldn’t help but let a smile stretch across his face. Then, in a flurry of feathers, Castiel appeared behind Dean in the bathroom. Smiling, Dean pulled him in by his trench coat and kissed him.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’, then,” Dean grinned as he soaked in the disheveled angel before him. “And how the hell did you sleep with all these clothes on?”

Confused, he looked down at his clothes. “Umm…”

“Never mind,” Dean interrupted with a shake of his head. “But no clothes in the shower.” 

Carefully, Dean pushed the trench coat and suit jacket from Castiel’s torso. He laid them over the sink as Cas loosened his tie and began unbuttoning his shirt. Within moments, Dean took over and added the two garments to the clothes pile. 

Pulling Cas in, Dean pressed light, chaste kisses to his shoulder and neck as his hands found the front of Castiel’s slacks and unclasped them. Castiel ran his hands up and down Dean’s waist, and his hips instinctually bucked forward as Dean’s fingers met Cas’ skin. Then, Dean slowly tugged his pants and boxers down. 

Grasping Dean’s shoulder, Cas stepped out of his pants legs, and pushed both of them into the cramped motel shower. 

The water was warm and inviting as it trickled along their skin. They kissed under the shower’s spray then Dean chuckled. 

“Dude, Sammy can never know how much of a sap I am for you, okay?” he said as he ran his hands up and down Castiel’s dripping skin. 

Cas nodded with a shy grin as Dean reached past him, grabbed the soap, and lathered his hands quickly. Smirking, Dean handed the bar of soap for Castiel to hold. 

“Don’t drop the soap,” he teased as he began cleaning Cas’ arms. 

His hands roamed every curve and plane of his skin. Dropping to his knees, he rubbed the suds around Cas’ feet, ankles, calves. Slowly, his fingers trailed along his thighs and the angel let out a sigh as Dean pressed against his erection. 

He moved forward, ever so slowly and nosed against Castiel’s member. With his less sudsy hand he stroked gently causing a groan to slip between Castiel’s lips.

“Dean,” Cas moaned. His hands fell to Dean’s shoulders as Dean’s mouth wrapped around the head of Cas’ dick. “ _Oh—_ ”

Pressing his hand tightly to Castiel’s hip, Dean bobbed back and forth hollowing his cheeks each time his head tilted back. His other hand stroked what his mouth could not take. 

Groaning, Castiel moved his hands into Dean’s hair and pulled lightly to ground himself. Incoherent mumbling fell from his lips between each shaky exhale. 

“Dean, Dean,” Cas whispered repeatedly as Dean hummed around his cock.

Water drops caught on Dean’s eyelashes as he looked up to see Cas barely holding himself together. His eyes were shut and his mouth hung open between moans. 

Dean quickened his motions and flicked his tongue across Cas’ slit. A deep moan fell from Cas’ lips. 

“Agh,” he hissed between groans. “Dean, please— _oh!_ ”

Sitting back, Dean released Castiel’s member. 

“Come for me, Cas,” he said hoarsely. Leaning forward, Dean took Cas into his mouth again and after two more thrusts, Castiel came hard and loud. Dean’s hand continued to stroke Castiel as the angel slumped against the wall and held fast to Dean’s shoulder and hair. 

Finally, Dean stood, and kissed Castiel desperately. 

“You are beautiful,” he muttered into Cas’ skin. “So beautiful.”

Smiling, Cas pulled him in for another kiss. Then, Dean eased him under the water to rinse off his body. As the water chased the soap and cum down Cas’ frame, Dean started cleaning himself then he joined the angel under the shower nozzle. 

“Come here,” Dean said as he stepped back and pulled Cas out of the water. 

Grasping the shampoo, he quickly dispersed it onto his hands before gliding it through Castiel’s hair. Within moments Cas’ hair was covered in foam as a grin spread across Cas’ face. 

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Dean smirked. Then, he leaned in to kiss Cas as his hands pushed the sudsy shampoo through his hair and down his neck. 

“Yes, it does,” Cas replied. 

He switched their positions quickly so he was standing under the water. Within seconds his hair was clean, and he reached for the small bottle that Dean had used moments before. With a flick of his wrist, Cas had a good amount of shampoo in his palm. Seconds later, Dean felt Castiel’s hands running smoothly through his hair spreading the shampoo thoroughly into his scalp. He closed his eyes and groaned. 

In a blink of an eye, Dean was pressed tightly against the cool, shower wall. Castiel’s eyes flashed dangerously as he crashed their mouths together in a hungry, deep kiss. Then, with a lathered hand, Cas reached to Dean’s ignored erection and teased a loose stroke around Dean’s dick. 

Dean hissed at the touch and rested his head against Cas’ shoulder. Feeling Castiel’s breathe hot against his neck, Dean kissed Castiel’s skin in a silent plead for more. 

He was already painfully hard as Cas began a pleasant pace. Moaning, Dean clutched to Cas’ skin as he felt his body build and twist. He tilted his head back so he could look into the ocean of Castiel’s eyes. 

“Damn it, _Cas_ ,” Dean groaned. “Ah! Ah—I’m gonna…” 

Stealing the words, Castiel pushed his mouth against Dean’s as his orgasm ripped through his body. Dean shuddered and shook while his moans were swallowed by Castiel’s kiss. Then, Dean sighed. 

Suds dripped from his hair just as the water started to turn cold. Laughing, Dean nudged into Cas’ face and foam stuck to his nose and forehead. Squinting his eyes, Cas smirked and pulled both of them into the now freezing water. Dean shivered, and they hurriedly rid his hair of shampoo. 

Reaching to the knobs, Dean turned the shower off then grabbed a towel from outside the yellow shower curtain. He dried Cas then himself and stepped out onto the white floor mat followed by Castiel.

“I’m starving!” Dean muttered as he tossed the towel to the corner of the bathroom. “Lunch, then we are going to a Laundromat to wash your smelly clothes.” 

Walking to his duffle, Dean pulled out his few clean clothes and tossed some jeans and a t-shirt at Castiel. 

“Put those on for now,” he said as he started pulling on his own clothes. 

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas whispered. 

A knock came to the door. 

“Hey! All clear?” Sam shouted through the wooden door.

Turning, Dean checked to see if Cas was presentable. The light grey ACDC shirt hung casually along Castiel’s frame causing Dean’s breath to hitch. His eyes flicked down to see his jeans hung loosely over Cas’ smaller frame. 

“Damn, Cas,” Dean smiled. 

Castiel grinned as he looked down to admire his new clothes. 

“Guys!” Sam yelled a little louder and knocked again. “Can I come in?”

“Oh,” Dean replied. “Yeah!” 

The door swung open as Dean gathered all of Cas’ clothes and his dirty clothes into a pile. 

“It’s laundry day,” he stated to his younger brother with a smile. 

“Laundry day?” Sam repeated. “You hate laundry day.” 

Cas’ stomach growled loudly. Looking over at Cas, Sam almost didn’t recognize him in Dean’s clothes. 

“Oh,” Sam said in understanding. “Laundry day… Wow, Dean.”

Dean chuckled, and Cas tilted his head in confusion at the brother’s exchange and also as the rumbling of his stomach intensified. 

“Dean,” Cas said slowly. “I think I’m hungry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry that took so long... tbh, i spent a lot of time debating putting smut and fluff in this fic... but i had to be a little nice to my babies... because hell is about to break loose...


	9. Echoes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning for suicidal thoughts (very slight, IMO), non consent, blood, torture, and bad words.

His feathers were thick and seeping in blood. 

Gasping for breath between slashes, his lips trembled in anticipation of pain, but more so for the end of agony. He wished that the torturing would stop, the pain would stop, that Dean would stop. But he knew it would continue until the demon felt fulfilled. Until he was at the last inch of his life. 

Sometimes he wished the demon would just push past that small stretch and end this for good. He would close his eyes and will for the darkness that came with absolute nothingness in death. No more pain or fear or confusion. No fatigue.

The exhaustion he felt lingered in the joints of his borrowed body, but was felt deeply in the very corners of his grace. Every touch brought him closer to unconsciousness, and every slice felt exponentially painful than the first. 

The whip cracked against his mutilated wings tearing into his feathers. He screamed as the whip beat down on him again. 

Struggling to maintain what little balance he had, Castiel staggered on the points of his dress shoes as his arms were stretched far too high above his head. He scowled at the situation and whimpered at the next slap sent waves of throbbing stings throughout his vessel. 

His vision blurred with the threat of tears as he heard Dean’s laugh behind him. 

“Healing isn’t going to be so easy this time,” the demon sneered as he wielded the whip against Castiel’s appendages. “Probably won’t be able to fly tonight. Won’t be able to see your precious boyfriend.” 

Castiel couldn’t respond. He couldn’t remember how to move his lips or how to articulate a thought. 

“Of course, he won’t know that it’s because you’re hurting. Or that it’s because you’re falling from grace,” the demon predicted. “He might even be angry at you.” The crop slashed into Castiel’s feathers as Dean’s lips curved into a smile. “Angry that you’ve been missing for so long. Angry that you are turning into a mere human! Can you imagine? Useless.” _Crack!_ “Powerless.” _Crack!_ “Hopeless.” _Crack!_ “Castiel.” 

The words stung as deep and incredulously as the lashes against his wings. His eyes were wet now, and his heart grew heavy with the weight of the words hanging in the air. 

“Please,” he said inaudibly. 

“What was that?” the demon smirked. “I didn’t hear you.” 

Castiel swallowed and held his tongue. 

Closing his eyes, he heard the impending sound of footsteps approaching him. Then, he felt his hair being yanked back indelicately barring his throat. 

“What did you say, Castiel? Tell me again.”

He shook his head slightly. Then, anger flashed through Dean’s eyes as his idle hand punched into his disfigured, bloody feathers. Pain echoed throughout his body. 

“Please!” Castiel whimpered brokenly. “Please stop.”

The demon smiled. “But isn’t this so fun, Castiel? And I’ve barely even begun!”

A sob rose in Cas’ throat. “Please, Dean.” Castiel choked out. “This isn’t you! Please…” 

The demon stepped back. His smile fallen as he turned back toward the table of torture equipment. 

\--

 _Stop! Let him go!_ Dean shouted in his mind. _You’ve done enough!_

 _Shut up, Dean_ , the demon responded. _Just sit back and enjoy the show._

Dean growled and tried kicking and clawing desperately at the back of his own mind. However, the demon seemed unfazed by every action he attempted against it. 

He saw his own hands picking through different weapons seeking out the perfect instrument of torture. His heart leapt in his chest as the demon settled upon a jagged dagger. 

_No, no, no!_ Dean chanted roughly. 

The demon ignored him as he pushed the blade into his pocket and walked back to Castiel’s lifeless form. 

Dean’s anger surged over him at the sight of Castiel’s destroyed wings. Blood dripped over the tattered, loose feathers and onto the floor. 

_What have you done?!_

He felt laughter bubble up from his own body, but it wasn’t his laughter. 

Then, he was looking straight at Cas, and the emptiness inside him shattered Dean’s heart. All defiance, vibrancy, and purpose were absent in the shallow pools of the angel’s formerly ocean-deep eyes. 

_Cas…_

“If only Dean could see you now,” the demon smirked. 

_You ass!_ Dean seethed. 

He felt his hands lift and push deeply at the base of Castiel’s wings pulling their bodies closer together. The warmth of their bodies was accompanied by the smell and taste of blood in the air and the almost inaudible whimpers Castiel made at the stretched movements taken on his body. 

His own mouth opened and pushed a hard, sucking bruise again Castiel’s shoulder. His fingers pushed at the base of Cas’ wing eliciting a pained moan from the tortured angel. Then, his hands smoothed down the angel’s sides and took a firm grip of Castiel’s ass as he bit and sucked a new bruise into Cas’ skin.

 _Stop, you absolute fuck!_ Dean screamed in his head. 

Turning his lips up in a smirk, the demon snapped his hips forward into Castiel’s. The angel hissed in a shallow breath as the demon worked more hickeys into his skin and thrust against Castiel’s body. His fingers now pushed past the slinky fabric of Cas’ dress pants to feel the soft, roundness of flesh beneath and the warmth between. 

“Please, stop,” Cas whispered at the intrusion. 

_I swear to God_ , Dean threatened, _I am going to kill you!_

“You can try,” the demon sneered. 

Dean tried to regain control of his body. He pressed and pulled, kicked and screamed, but nothing could reconnect his mind and body unless the demon allowed it. He felt helpless as the demon pulled the knife and scraped shallow marks along Castiel’s shaking skin. 

Castiel was breaking before his very eyes, and there was absolutely nothing Dean could do to stop it. 

_Cas, Jesus, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…_ Dean prayed. _I can’t stop him._

\--

“Are you alright, Dean?” Sam asked cautiously as he pulled the Impala’s passenger door open with a familiar screech. 

“Just peachy,” Dean replied with a small, sarcastic smile and quick nod. After tossing his worn duffle bag into the car, he slammed the trunk closed with a scowl and grimace. Then, he tucked himself into the driver’s seat and started the car as Sam ducked into his usual spot. 

And before Sam could say another word, Dean amped up the radio to silence any further conversation. With a sigh, Sam watched their latest hotel fade away in the side mirror as they traveled to their next job. 

\--

The young victim was sprawled out along the wooden floor with dark craters where their eyes should have been. 

A click and flash of a camera captured the scene for evidence as Sam and Dean stepped to the side. 

“Angels, obviously,” Sam muttered under his breath. “But why?”

“Because angels are dicks,” Dean grunted as he crossed his arms. “This is the third victim in four days. Looks like someone is trying to break another seal, and fast.” 

Walking toward the door, Dean took one lengthier sweep around the room then exited the crime scene with Sam two steps behind him.

“Don’t you think we should call Cas?” Sam suggested. “I mean, he is an angel, Dean, maybe he knows what’s going on here.” 

“No,” Dean said stiffly. “We’re not gonna call Cas; we can handle this.” 

“I’m not saying we can’t handle it, I’m saying it could save us some time…”

“Sam, I said no.”

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Sam pushed his fingers through his hair. 

“Are you gonna tell me what’s going on with you or not?” 

Dean turned and narrowed his eyes at his brother. “Or not,” he grunted. “Let’s go, we are wasting time.” 

Half an hour later, they were glancing over the coroner’s reports for the other victims trying to work out the links between the three deaths. 

“Burnt out eyes, liquefied organs,” Dean read aloud. “Yum.” He switched the page and looked up at his brother. “Anything?”

“I’ve got nothing,” Sam said finally as he slapped down a manila file. “All ranging in age, height, sex, race… I don’t see any connections between these people.” 

Dean’s eyes narrowed as he continued reading one of the vic summaries. 

“There has to be something,” he muttered as he flipped the page. 

“But what kind of angel just kills people, Dean?” Sam murmured. “I know angels aren’t necessarily guardians, but we’ve never seen an angel that kills humans with no intent.” 

Dean’s eyes flickered to the next file and placed each report side by side. 

“I mean, sure, Uriel didn’t care about human life being smited during the rising of Samhain, but he saw it as a means to an end,” Sam continued. He pointed a finger to the files Dean was still analyzing. “This is not a means to an end.” 

“Sam,” Dean interrupted with a glance. “Look at this.” 

He set the files down against the counter. 

“Each vic was born between May 21 and June 21.”

Sam’s eyebrows furrowed. “So?” 

“So I’m pretty sure that is an astrology time frame. Like Chinese horoscope.” 

“You mean the zodiac?” 

A goofy smile pulled at Dean’s lips. “Well it looks like we found the real Zodiac Killer.” 

Sam tilted his head and dealt out an impressive bitchface.

“What?” Dean quipped. 

Grabbing the files, Sam rolled his eyes and made his way toward the exit with Dean trailing behind him. 

\--

“So all of these people are Gemini’s,” Dean confirmed looking up from Sammy’s laptop. “And guess what,” Dean paused. “There is a specific angel meant to protect people born under that sign.” Sam raised his eyebrows in interest. “Ambriel. Angel and Protector of Gemini.” 

Sam shook his head slightly. “That doesn’t make sense though. If Ambriel is their guardian, why are these people being killed?”

Pursing his lips, Dean nodded. “Unless Ambriel isn’t doing the killing. Maybe someone else is trying to lure him out, using these vics as bait.”

“Alright,” Sam nodded. “Let’s put together a summoning spell, and go from there.” 

Dean groaned slightly as he stood and grabbed the keys to the car. Leaves crunched under his feet as he ambled through the abandoned warehouse. While Dean gathered the herbs, petals, and other ingredients from the trunk, Sam began scratching the necessary chalked sigils onto the cement floor. 

The clunking of approaching boots returned just as Sam finished sketching the Enochian letters around the circular symbol. 

“You know,” Dean rumbled, “This makes me feel hypocritical.” Leaning slightly, he handed Sam a silver bowl full of dried foliage. “I hate witchcraft, yet here we are,” he waved toward the makeshift altar, “using a summoning spell.” 

“Can it, Dean,” Sam muttered as he pulled his lighter from his coat pocket. With a flick of his wrist, a flame engulfed the ingredients as he chanted the simple Enochian spell. 

Dean winced, preparing himself for flashes of lightning and rolls of thunder. But nothing happened. 

“Huh,” Sam huffed and finally stood from his crouched position. “Maybe we did it wr—” 

“Winchesters.” 

Both brothers turned. The voice belonged to a tall woman who stood near the entrance. She was dressed in a simple white dress with long, flowing dark hair. 

“What can I do for you?” Ambriel asked as he slowly approached the silent brothers. 

“Who is killing your people?” Dean asked impatiently. 

The angel tilted his head. “My people?” 

“An angel is killing people born under the sign of Gemini,” Sam explained. 

A frown deepened upon the angel’s features. “How many?” 

“Four. So far.” 

“Show me,” Ambriel commanded. 

Grabbing the files, Sam cautiously approached the angel before handing the information over. Once peering through the files, the angel’s expression hardened. 

“They are my vessels,” Ambriel stated handing the papers back to Sam. “All of them are affiliated with the true lineage capable of containing me and my angelic grace.” 

Sam’s brow furrowed. “Who is the next target, Ambriel?” 

“There’s only one left,” he replied. “Angie Osteen.”

“Okay. Now, who’s icing them?” Dean asked. 

Turning away, Ambriel shrugged causing ripples to flow through the beautiful, white fabric of his dress. “I don’t see how this could have happened.”

“Do you have a name?” Sam asked gently. 

“I’m meant to be their protector,” Ambriel continued. “I failed them, and I failed God.”

Rolling his eyes, Dean sighed in annoyance. “Just give us a name.”

Ambriel set his jaw and glared at Dean. “Don’t be disrespectful, demon. These are lost lives. People I could have protected. You understand that, right? You, most of all, know how it feels to fail.” Defiantly, Dean met the angel’s eyes. “I see who you are, what you are. God chose you as the Righteous Man, and He couldn’t have been more wrong,” he spat. “You and your brother are both abominations in the eyes of Heaven. Soaked and covered in wrongness only delivered by Hell itself. You and your brother have enough blood on your hands to fill the Red Sea.” 

Straightening himself, Dean’s frowned deepened as Sam’s shoulders hunched. 

“Look, Ambriel,” Sam said calmly while looking toward the ground. “I know you are upset, but we’re trying to help—” 

“By adding more bloodshed to the apocalypse?” he interrupted. “I won’t see more of my brothers and sisters killed. I will speak to Mastema. Alone.”

With one last, piercing look, he vanished. 

\--

The splintering of wood echoed throughout the house as Dean burst through the door. A scream erupted, and Dean headed toward the source, knowing Sam would meet him from the back door. 

Angel blade in hand, Dean peaked around the corner to see Ambriel being thrown across the room. Laughter erupted as the possessed girl flicked her wrist toward the older woman causing an agonized scream from Ambriel. 

“It is sickening what you would do for them, brother,” the girl chanted. “They are mere humans.” 

“They are God’s most beloved,” Ambriel hissed. 

An angel blade appeared from the young girl’s sleeve. “Then He won’t mind that I’ve killed you.” 

Dean rounded in to the room, blade held high. 

“Hope I didn’t ruin the party,” Dean smirked. 

The girl’s eyes flickered black as she grinned. “Oh, now it’s just begun.”

“Now, Sam!” 

Steam sizzled off the screaming demon as Sam flung holy water upon the young girl’s body. 

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus,” Sam chanted. 

The words echoed throughout the room, and Dean staggered to the chair. Clutching his chest, Dean fell to his knees. 

“Stop, Sam Winchester!” a stern voice yelled. “It’s affecting your brother. I can take it from here.”

Vaguely, Dean heard footsteps and more voices. Then, the exorcism stopped. Gasping for air, Dean inhaled a deep breath as Sam clutched his shoulder holding him up. 

“Dean!” Sam shouted. “Are you alright?”

He coughed. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” Stumbling, he let Sam pull him to his feet. 

Looking past Sam, Dean watched as Ambriel kept the demon tethered to the nearest wall. 

“The demon inside this girl was once an angel,” Ambriel stated as the brothers approached. “He can be exorcized, but the girl might not survive.” He looked from Sam to Dean then back at the girl. “After the exorcism, I must possess her to heal her. However, I will need her consent.” 

Standing back, Dean nudged Sam forward. “Send that son of a bitch back to Hell, Sammy,” Dean encouraged patting his brother’s back. “I’m just gonna go sit way over here.” 

“That won’t be necessary,” Ambriel stated. 

Dean stopped. “He doesn’t need to use his psychic-powers when he can just recite an exorcism.” 

“Dean, it’ all right,” Sam said. “This won’t hurt either of us.” 

Defeat etched into Dean’s eyes as he gritted his teeth. Then, Sam turned, closed his eyes, and held his palm up toward the demon. Within moments smoke fumed from the girl’s mouth and landed in a fiery smoke along the wooden panels of the floorboards. 

The girl slid from the wall to a slouched position and struggled for air while Ambriel rested a comforting hand against her shoulder. 

“Angie,” he whispered through his female vessel. “I can heal your pain if you want me to. You just have to say ‘yes’.” 

With a small nod, the girl breathed out a silent voucher for consent, and within seconds, the bright, angelic grace of Ambriel filled the room then confined itself to Angie’s body. 

Her eyes shut and she took a deep inhale. 

“She should be fine now,” the angel spoke. “Neither will remember any of this happening. Goodbye, Winchesters, and thank you for maintaining one of the 66 seals.” 

Then, in a flash of light, Ambriel’s vessels were both empty and safe. 

\--

Settling in yet another cheap motel room, Dean Winchester pulled the blankets up around him and tried not to think. He listened to his brother’s steady breathing, and tried to match his own exhales to his easy, dreamless state. 

But the pillow wasn’t soft enough. The mattress wasn’t solid enough. The blankets made his skin itch. And there was an absence of angelic warmth tucked against his skin. 

However, Dean was experiencing more than physical obstacles before sleep. There was too much on his mind. He couldn’t forget the pain he inflicted upon Castiel. So he stayed up, haunted by memories of his uncontrollable hands tearing into his angel. 

And he prayed. 

“Hey, Cas,” he barely whispered. “Haven’t seen you in a while…” he started. “We had a long day. Met one of your brothers. Ambriel. Not as bad as the others.” He sighed deeply. “Man, it feels like ages since I’ve seen you. Come back soon, Cas… I mi—”

A slight knocking interrupted his thoughts, and his body lagged to respond. Then, the knock became louder, shaking Dean from his exhausted trance. 

Making his way across the room, Dean held his gun to the back of the door as he opened it slowly. To his surprise, Castiel collapsed into his arms. 

“Dean,” the angel mumbled as he burrowed his head into Dean’s chest. 

By this time, Dean was wide-awake. Slipping comforting arms around his angel, he shut the door quietly and led Cas to the edge of his bed. 

Cas’ breath was shaky against his skin and his hands clutched for Dean’s shirt, arms, and hair. “Make it stop, make it stop,” he repeated. 

“Make what stop?” Dean breathed. 

“The pain.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry about the length of time between posts! i had art finals, and had to pack and move out of the dorms. it's officially summer, and that gives me more time to work on stuff i want to work on... like this :)


	10. No More Secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning for self harm

“What the hell happened?” Sam hissed at Dean.

They stood at the end of the bed and watched Cas’ slow, steady breathing as he slept with his bandaged wings splayed across the bed and over the floor. 

Dean’s lip trembled, and he turned to face the empty wall. 

“I can’t…” he mumbled as his eyes watered. “I couldn’t stop him.”

“Stop who?” Sam asked. “Cas?”

Composing himself, Dean shook his head slightly and took a deep breath. 

“My demon.”

Sam inhaled quickly and slouched before taking a seat. 

“I’m sorry, Dean.”

Nodding, Dean leaned against the door.

“Me too.”

Filling up two glasses of bourbon, Sam handed one to his brother who gladly gulped down the fiery liquid. Smiling sadly, Sam looked toward the ground. 

“We really need to figure something out. I’m worried about you. And Cas,” Sam whispered. “That’s why I called Ruby.” 

“You what?” Dean spewed quietly and strode towards his brother. “You called up your demon girlfriend, so she can help, do what exactly? Set off my demon? Because that’s what’s going to happen, Sam, because I’m this close,” he gestured, “to losing my shit.”

Sam sighed. “She said she has news. She’ll be here in an hour.” He strode to his bed and closed his eyes. “In the mean time, why don’t you make sure Cas’ bandages stay clean?” 

Dean’s temper settled and his face softened as he gazed at the angel sleeping on his bed. His hair was sticking in all directions, and as he breathed steadily, his wings rose and fell slowly. Then, carefully, Dean lowered himself onto the bed and began stroking Cas’ hair in attempts to tame the persistent spikes. He smiled as he realized he would not win the battle against his angel’s hair. 

Leaning down, Dean pressed a chaste kiss to Cas’ temple. 

“I’m so sorry, Cas,” he breathed. “I’m sorry.” 

Cas’ eyes flittered open momentarily, and he leaned in to Dean’s soft touch before returning to slumber. His heart warmed, and he moved to lie along side Castiel. When the angel’s wing lifted slightly in invitation, Dean burrowed into the shape of Cas’ body and dozed off. 

\--

A knock against the door signaled Ruby’s arrival. 

Quickly, Sam checked the peephole; then, opened the door. 

“Sam. Dean,” Ruby greeted as she entered the hotel room. She threw a duffle bag beside Sam’s before sitting where Sam had been lying minutes prior. 

“Gee, make yourself at home,” Dean said. 

Ruby smirked. “Gladly.” 

Steadily, Sam strode across the room and sat beside her. Sitting up against the headboard, Dean kept a protective hand on the back of Cas’ head. He moved his fingers comfortingly through his dark locks as Cas’ eyes opened lazily. 

“There’s not much I can do for you or your boyfriend,” Ruby started. “A demon is a demon is a demon, you know.” She tossed her hair back and flashed her dark eyes. “However, I do know where Alistair is located, and I think it is very possible that we can get information from him.” 

Dean’s hands stilled, and Cas looked up at the hunter’s dark features. 

“Where is he?” 

“With Lilith,” she whispered. “They’re attempting to break the final seal.”

“What?” Sam gasped. “When?” 

“Tomorrow at sundown at an old convent called St. Mary’s.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “And you’re just now telling us this. Thanks.”

“I only just learned about it, and I came straight here! It’s not like they flaunt their apocalyptic plans to the world,” she argued. “It’s the best I could do.” 

“And that’s all we can ask of you,” Sam said grasping her hand. “You’ve done what you can, and that’s enough.” 

Castiel shifted slightly and rustled his feathers. 

“When do we leave?” he mumbled as he tried to sit up. 

Quickly, Dean steadied him with a hand on the shoulder. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, no you don’t,” Dean whispered as he pulled Cas back to the bed. “You have to heal.” 

“I’m fine, Dean,” he grumbled into the sheet. 

“Don’t worry, Cas. We can handle them,” Sam said. 

Cas clutched Dean’s hand tightly. “Please, Dean. I need to go with you.” 

“No, Cas,” Dean stated. “You’re going to have to stay here. We’ll be safe, I promise.” 

“The Winchesters are right, Castiel,” Ruby said. “You aren’t strong enough, and you would be a liability. We can’t take chances on this one. We have to go in strong before they even know what hits them.” 

Standing, she reached for her bag and headed to the door. 

“Sam, are you thirsty?” she asked with a smirk as she stepped over the threshold. Sam’s expression darkened. Then, he reached for his bag and followed after her. 

“We’ll meet up in an hour and leave then,” Sam said and closed the door behind him. 

Watching his brother leave, he could feel those electric blue eyes pierce through his heart as Cas begged him to reconsider. He wouldn’t though. He couldn’t lose Castiel, and the chances were too high on this one.

“Dean,” Cas’ voice broke through Dean’s thoughts. “Please.” He was interrupted by Dean’s soft mouth on his. 

Slowly and carefully, they made love: intense and beautiful as if it would be the last time. They constantly whispered silent words of adoration against each other’s skin and worshiped each other’s bodies like they’d never hold each other again. 

Hundreds of kisses and thousands of touches later, Dean thrust into his angel as he slid his hand around Cas’ thickened cock. Then, Cas moaned deeply throughout his release, and Dean came inside Cas while lightly kissing the base of his tender wings. He kissed up his spine and finally met his lips again. His heart pattered within his chest, and he wondered if Cas already knew what he never had the courage to say before. 

Meeting Cas’ gaze, he ran his fingers through his lover’s sweaty hair. 

“I love you, Cas,” Dean whispered. 

Cas smiled and kissed him again. “I love you, too, Dean.” 

As Castiel drifted into unconsciousness, Dean placed a final kiss along Cas’ cheek, and pulled himself from Cas’ body. After donning fresh clothes, he quickly scrawled a goodbye note, grabbed his bag, and his keys; then, he was gone. 

\--

The Impala’s engine cut off in Ilchester, Maryland. 

Moonlight illuminated the dead trees around the exterior of the abandoned abbey. As fog drifted close to the ground, St. Mary’s Convent was eerily quiet besides the creaking of the car doors a the trio exited the vehicle. 

“First thing’s first,” Ruby whispered. She pulled out the demon knife and sliced the palm of her hand. 

“What are you doing?” Dean hissed as he pushed her away from his brother. 

“Just a little extra Vitamins,” she replied. “Drink up, Sammy.” 

Sam shot an annoyed look at Ruby. “I thought we made an agreement…” His eyes flickered to his brother. “Not here.”

Catching on, Dean tilted his head back in realization. He felt that familiar darkness stir within him, but he shoved the demon down.

“Oh,” he sighed turning away. “Man, I had no idea how bad this really was, huh? How long have you been drinking demon blood? Since before Cas pulled me out of the pit?” He forced a laugh. “So it wasn’t already bad enough having demon powers, and hiding them from me.” He turned back to Sam with a frown. “I thought we were through with lying to each other, Sam.” 

“I know, Dean,” Sam retaliated. “I stopped, okay? But after Alistair, I couldn’t…” He cleared his throat. “I need it, so I can stop them. After we take down Lilith and Alistair, I won’t need it anymore.” 

“Is it just about power for you?” Dean whispered to the ground. “Are you even thinking about yourself? What it will do to you?” 

“Yes,” Sam scoffed. “But, millions of lives are at stake here, Dean, not just mine. And if this is what it takes to save all of those people,” he raised his arms in exasperation. “Then, great! Because I know I’m doing the right thing.” 

“Then, by all means, fuel up,” he jibed as he crossed his arms, turned away, and sat on the hood of the car. 

Minutes later, Sam approached Dean and sat beside him. 

“I’m sorry,” Sam said. “I just didn’t want you to freak out.” 

“I know.” Dean uncrossed his arms. “You’re my kid brother, you know, and I have to look out for you. But you make it damn near impossible when you make these terrible decisions ‘for the greater good’.” 

Sam nodded in understanding. “But I have to make my own decisions, Dean. Good or bad, because that makes me my own person.” He slapped Dean’s back as he stood while Ruby impatiently waved at him. “Are you read to stop the apocalypse?” 

A small smile slipped across Dean’s lips, and he nodded. 

“Let’s go kick some demon ass.”

\--

The walls shuttered as the Latin incantation echoed off the stony walls. On the altar, a young woman was held under Alistair’s threatening knife. Dean peered around his corner of the convent and saw Sam and Ruby on the opposite side of the main hall. 

“With this sacrifice, I, Alistair, free our beloved Father from his prison, so that he can bring wrath, vengeance, and the apocalypse to this world.” He wielded his knife high in the air. “Rise, Father. Rise from your cage!” 

Before Alistair could plunge the dagger into the victim’s throat, Sam strode into the room hand held high. The force pushed Alistair off the altar and slammed him into the sidewall. Dean heard the familiar cackling of laughter that sent shivers down his spine. 

Running to the young girl, Dean saw another demon attack Ruby before she could join in the main fight. Quickly, Dean reached the altar, and began to untie the woman’s bonds and pull her desperately from the platform. 

“It’s okay,” he comforted as he grasped her hand. “My name’s Dean, and I’m here to help.” 

Slowly, she slid from the cement block and let Dean push her toward the exit. 

“Run!” he screamed as he turned to help Sam. “Get out of here!” 

Unnatural laughter slipped from her mouth as she looked at Dean. 

“Oh, Dean-o,” the girl’s voice hummed. “Don’t look so surprised.”

“Alistair?” Dean questioned. He turned to look at the demon Sammy had pinned against the wall. In any moment, that demon would be vanquished. 

“And it is written that the first demon shall be the last seal.” Alistair grinned wickedly with the girl’s mouth. “There’s a reason I’m meant to look like the victim,” Alistair snarled. “Only one person can kill Lilith, so Lucifer can walk the Earth once more.” 

“Sam! Stop!” Dean yelled as Alistair lunged forward. “You can’t kill Lilith!” 

“It’s too late, Winchester,” the demon hissed above him and twisted his arm. “You’re always too late.” 

He heard the thud of a body, and knew Alistair was right. Lilith was dead. The final seal was broken. 

“And you,” he laughed again. “You and I are gonna have so much fun!” He pushed Dean to the ground. “You only spent forty years in hell, Dean. Imagine a thousand more, an infinity, of me torturing you. Torture much worse than you inflict on that pretty little angel of yours.” Alistair stepped on Dean’s chest causing his breathing to come in jagged spurts of air. “I’ll see you back in Hell, young grasshopper.” 

An angel blade slid from the girl’s sleeve, and suddenly, his own demon surged forward and pushed Dean to the farthest corners of his own mind.

“Dean!” Sam yelled.

Quickly, the demon kicked Alistair off and rolled over on top of his instructor's new body. That same creeping grin broke across the girl’s face. 

“You trained me better than you thought,” the demon hissed as he held the blade to the vessel’s heart and pushed the life out of both the cruel demon and the vessel. “Sayonara, bitch!”

\--

The familiar darkness woke him. His heart was pattering and he pushed off of the blanket slowly and looked around. How long had he been asleep? 

He groaned lightly as his wings screamed out as he moved them. 

“Dean?” he called out. He knew he wouldn’t get a response, and he sighed. 

Carefully, he pulled himself from the bed and slid his clothes back in place. His eyes did a final sweep of the room, and his eyes caught on a single sheet of paper on the nightstand. 

_Cas,_

 _I’ve left with Sam and Ruby to St. Mary’s Convent. I should be back in two days. Rest your wings._

_Dean_

He frowned at the note and flexed his wings as he felt the pull of Dean’s demon summoning him. It was dark and violent and urgent. The bandages surrounding his wings shifted and fell to the floor in heaps, freeing his feathers. Then he was no longer standing in the warm hotel room but the cold halls of the demon’s torture chamber.


	11. Break on Through

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for suicidal thoughts and slight gore

This pain was new: a constant ache delving deep inside Castiel’s absolute being. 

His ripped skin and bleeding body couldn’t compare to the brokenness within him. Every slash the demon inflicted upon him was a reminder that he could feel. Not just the physical, but exhaustion, longing, and emptiness. Sadness. 

Castiel watched the demon use Dean’s body to browse through his weaponry. There was something different in his step this time. A hollowness that set Castiel on edge. 

Dean’s soul was gone. 

The shimmering light that called to Castiel had been consumed. Each glimpse of the demon caused his heart to sink deeper into his chest. 

Swallowing, Cas rested his head back against the entrapment. Pain wrenched through his body like never before. The soreness in his wings was blurring with each new gash on his vessel’s body— _his_ body now. 

He was slipping. 

“I hope you were able to say goodbye to Dean properly.” The malicious words jibed from Dean’s mouth, but it was the devil inside him that spoke. “Because he’s gone, Castiel.” Feeling powerful, the demon was starving for the sight of dripping blood and disfigurement. 

Clenching his jaw, Castiel looked toward the ceiling hoping to appear stoic. He could feel the excitement of anger radiating from the demon’s smoke through the blackness of his eyes. He couldn’t care though. Nothing mattered anymore. Dean was gone. 

“He’s the entire reason you put yourself on the rack in the first place!” the demon continued as he tightened Castiel’s bonds. “And for what?” He laughed. “For the demon to finally take over. Completely.” He tilted Castiel’s chin toward him. “He’s dead. And you will follow him soon.” 

Cas fought his breaking heart. “I look forward to it.” 

Closing his eyes, Castiel lied back against the wooden contraption. His arms and legs were both pinned and ready to be pulled taught. 

“That special fire within you has burnt out, Castiel,” the demon sneered. “Now you might as well be human.”

He cranked the lever, and Castiel’s limbs screamed as they were tightened, stretching the ligaments of his vessel’s weak body. Castiel could do nothing. He lied silently, and ached for the end.

\--

Dean could feel his muscles moving but his mind was groggy. Nothing made sense. He could hear his voice talking and the familiarity of his surroundings, but he couldn’t _do_ anything. 

“Oh, Castiel,” he heard himself say, “I know you’re ready to die, but not until I’ve ripped you apart.” 

The darkness of Dean’s mind was suddenly engulfed with the image of Cas stretched across a large wooden frame. Blood dripped from his nose and mouth, but there was no sign of pain written in the angel’s features. 

_Cas?_

Immediately, the demon turned the device, tightening the little slack left in Castiel’s limbs. His head fell back against the device as his mouth dropped open in a silent scream of pain. 

_Stop!_ Dean screamed as his mind cleared quickly. 

The demon chuckled at both Dean’s alertness and Castiel’s first visible agony. 

“It’s gonna be a long night,” the demon growled. He drew the angel blade from Dean’s jacket and traced along the sharp edges. 

Dean searched Cas’ lifeless eyes hoping for a flash of his spark. 

_Please, hang in there, Cas,_ Dean prayed. _We’re going to make it out of this._

A burst of pain shot through his body as the angel blade was dragged up his arm. He yelled as the knife cut deeper and deeper into his flesh. 

Castiel watched in horror as the blood spilled over Dean’s freckled skin. 

“Don’t!” Castiel yelled, pulling on his restraints. 

Tracing the blade along Dean’s throat, the demon chuckled. “He’s already dead, Castiel, no need to worry about an empty vessel.” 

That special spark ignited in Castiel’s eyes as he sneered. “You’re lying.” 

Dean’s heart quickened as a wave of adoration overcame him. Then, the knife etched shallow marks over his neck, and Dean hissed at the threatening contact. 

“Well, if that’s what you want to believe,” Dean’s demon said. 

Breaking through his soft t-shirt, the blade pressed another deep cut across his chest. 

_Do you feel that, Dean?_ The demon whispered to himself as he dragged the knife over the fresh wound. _Do you feel how close I am to your heart?_ He chuckled as he flicked his eyes toward Castiel. _And how much closer I am when this blade pierces the skin of this falling angel?_

Dean grimaced within himself, wanting to clench his teeth and fight the horrid creature controlling him. 

He felt his body move forward and saw the oceans that were Castiel’s eyes. Then, the angel blade sliced into the angel’s chest carving deep. 

Groaning, Castiel fought to hide his screams as the knife punctured his skin again. 

_You son of a bitch!_ Dean yelled. 

_There’s nothing you can do, Dean. Just watch. Look deep into his eyes, so you can see the moment he putters out._ Dean’s demon smiled. _Where do you think he’ll go when he’s dead? Definitely not Heaven or Hell. Maybe angels just cease to exist. With no real assurance for a peaceful rest._

Dean tried to close his eyes, to look away from his angel, but he wasn’t in control.

 _Please, stop,_ Dean begged. _Just stop, and you can take me instead._

_I already have you._

Castiel’s scream ripped through his body. 

Crying out, Dean clawed at the back of his mind, reaching for any part of his body that he could control. Castiel could not die, especially not like this. 

_What do you want?_ Dean yelled as he shoved against the demon within him. 

Ignoring him, the demon loomed over Castiel. He gently stroked the side of the angel’s face as Dean continued to thrash against him. 

“I’m going to kill you, Castiel,” the demon stated. “And when you’re dead, no one can ever kill me.”

The tip of the blade traced along Castiel’s chest as he squirmed beneath the weapon and the demon’s touch. 

“Fitting, don’t you think?” the demon said. “Being stabbed in the heart.” 

Leaning down, he pressed a final kiss to Castiel’s lips. Dean simmered as he pounded against the walls of his mind. Then, the demon stood tall and wielded the dagger toward the angel’s chest. 

_No!_ Dean screamed. He felt something snap within him. _Castiel!_

The tip of the angel blade pierced his chest, but didn’t push past the first layer of skin. Castiel looked up in confusion as the knife clattered to the floor. 

“Cas?” Dean whispered. 

Hurriedly, Dean grasped Castiel face and rubbed soothing circles into his skin. He peppered soft kisses across the angel’s smile before reaching up to hastily untie the knots above Castiel’s hands. 

“Dean!” Castiel sighed. “I thought you were dead!” 

“I’m so sorry,” Dean whispered as Castiel’s bonds fell free. 

Immediately, Dean was drawn into a tight embrace. He kissed the top of Castiel’s head as he gently pulled away to free Cas’ feet. 

“We don’t have long,” Dean said. “I can feel him inside me. He’s going to break free again soon.” The ties fell loose and Castiel leaned against Dean for support. “You need to go, Cas, run as far as you can. And don’t come back. It’s too late for me, but you,” he smiled, “You have the heavens.” 

Castiel shook his head. “Not anymore.” 

“What?” 

“I’m falling fast, but there’s one last thing I have to do.” Castiel kissed him. “I have to possess you.” 

Dean’s brow knit together. 

“Cas, what are you talking about?” 

“I’m the only one who can kill the demon, and now I know how.” 

Castiel slumped against the nearest wall and slid down. Propped up by the wall, Cas sat comfortably. 

“So, possession?” Dean asked joining him on the floor. 

“Yes. Our energies will cancel each other out.” 

Dean shook his head. “Then, you’ll die?” 

“Maybe,” Cas smiled sadly. 

“Then, no,” Dean almost yelled. “We’ll find something else.”

“There is nothing else, Dean.” Castiel sighed and gripped Dean’s hand. “Let me do this. Let me save you.” 

Before he could refute, Castiel leaned forward to kiss him. His tongue slipped against his lips, inviting Dean in. Cas’ fingers tangled in Dean’s short hair, holding him close. Then, Cas heaved Dean up into his lap to kiss at a better angle. Dean’s nose pressed against his cheek and the warmth of his mouth gave Castiel the courage he was seeking. 

Finally, he groaned as he pulled away. 

“I want to, Dean, I lov—” 

He silenced him with a kiss. 

“Tell me after, okay?” Dean begged as he swiped his thumb over Cas’ bottom lip. 

Castiel’s gaze hardened. 

“Dean?”

With one last kiss, Dean nodded. 

“Yes.”


	12. All of Me

He was running. Running towards someone, running away from something. Running out of time. He had no idea. He just knew that he had to keep running. Keep moving. Keep going as fast as he could. His legs beneath him blurred with the dirt and grass. He wasn’t able to define the difference between his body and the earth or his body and the sky. 

Then, his surroundings changed. A white light pierced through him. 

Suddenly, the brightness from before contrasted with the unexpected darkness engulfing Dean’s mind. 

He knew he wasn’t alone, despite the emptiness. 

_Castiel?_

No answer. 

The darkness was blinding. The silence, deafening. 

As he pushed his panic aside, a door emerged from the shadows of his mind. Carefully, he approached the door, just a shade lighter than his surrounding subconscious. 

Pushing through the door, he fell into a room. 

\--

He was covered in sweat. Caked in grime and someone else’s blood. 

Tears were washing rivers down his face as he stood at the doorframe of an almost empty motel room. 

“Dean?” 

Little Sam. Dean felt guilt wash over him. He shouldn’t have come back like this.

“Dean, what happened?” Sammy asked. Dean watched as his little brother rose from his bed, and stood in front of Dean. 

Looking down, Dean barely saw Sam through his watery eyes. 

Gently, Sam pulled Dean by the arm into the matchbox of a bathroom. He led Dean to sit on top of the toilet seat lid while he ran warm water under the sink. 

He didn’t say anything as he soaped up a towel and began dabbing at the blood plastered to Dean’s face. Relief sank in his body as he realized the blood was not his brother’s. 

Dean’s eyes were empty, staring past Sam into an unknown void. 

“This ain’t no life for a kid, Sammy,” Dean whispered. “It’s dirty.” 

\--

Dean was ripped from the scene before him, and hurtled through the shadowy dimensions of his mind. 

_Cas!_ Dean shouted, breathless. _Castiel!_

Again, no answer. 

There was a new door though: ebony in color, already creaking open. 

Dean attempted to turn from the memory, but failed as the door dragged him through the dark space. 

\--

“Dean, honey, you have icing all over your face,” Mary laughed. 

Dean giggled, smearing more red lines across his cheeks. 

“Dad says it’s my war paint!” 

Stepping closer, Mary smiled as she stealthily armed herself with a wet paper towel. Holding it up, she creeped closer to Dean. 

“I’m gonna get you!” She joked. 

Dean screamed joyfully as he pretended to pull away from her washcloth.

“No!” He giggled. 

Carefully, Mary snatched him up in her arms and tickled him. Red icing smeared against the sleeve of her white shirt as Dean squirmed and laughed. Finally, she wiped Dean’s face until it was smudge-free. 

Leaning down, she kissed his nose. 

“There!” She announced. “You’re all clean.” 

\--

The memory ejected him and he was back in the dark void. He stood still. 

A slight humming noise broke the silence. It was a small vibration, luring him closer, growing louder the more he concentrated. 

Turning around, he strained to understand the sound. Instead, a new door emerged. Charcoal, darker than the first door but lighter than the second. 

_Not again._

The door opened, and Dean was pulled in. 

\--

He was asleep. 

Lying beside him was his favorite angel. 

Their bare legs were tangled together, and Dean’s arm was strung over Cas’ waist pulling him closer. Willing him not to leave just yet. 

With soft eyes, Cas’ fingers threaded through Dean’s hair as he slept. Then, he leaned forward slowly, hesitantly, and planted a gentle kiss to Dean’s temple. 

“Dean, you are so good,” Cas murmured. He pressed his lips against his freckled cheek this time. “So good. And strong.” 

Grumbling, Dean’s brow furrowed in his sleep, and Cas kissed it away.

“You are,” he insisted. “You are so loved, Dean Winchester. So loved.”

Dean stretched in his sleep, reaching out for Cas. Tugging his warmth and safety closer. 

Cas smiled. 

“Your soul shines the brightest,” he stated. “Bright and pure.”

\--

He was back in the empty darkness of his mind, wishing for no more doors. 

_Cas, please!_

He ran. 

The buzzing was growing louder, louder, louder. Screeching through his mind. Shaking his soul. 

The noise filled Dean with intended words. He shut his eyes as he continued to run blindly. If he could just focus on the words he could understand. 

_Go!_

The word pierced through him like venom. 

A new door appeared.

This one was ornate, gleaming gold and much larger than the doors he had previously encountered. It contrasted with the emptiness, the void of nothing around him. 

_Cas! Where are you? I’m not leaving you!_

Then, Castiel’s true voice ripped through his mind and body. 

_This was my choice for you! Go!_

He understood now. He was running from something. Running away from the fight. But, he was also running away from Castiel. He slowed his pace, and turned towards the shining, white light that erupted over the black horizon behind him.

_Dean!_

Everything shifted into focus. 

The darkness wasn’t emptiness, but the demon’s hold over his soul, his mind, and his body. The devil inside. 

Castiel’s true form towered over the fading blackness, and Dean fell back in fear and awe. 

The seraph before him was larger than anything Dean had ever witnessed, and impossibly bright to gaze upon. Yet, Dean couldn’t look away. Castiel’s multiple heads veered out against the demon as six wings beat powerfully into the surrounding smoke. 

_Take the door, Dean._

Hesitating, Dean gazed upon the golden door. The scrolls surrounding the frame moved like snakes and gleamed under Castiel’s grace. Enochian sigils were carved into the intricate designs of the door’s panels. 

Turning, he watched Castiel, Angel of the Lord, in his true form. He drank in the sight of the majestic angel fighting for him. How could he be worth this? He felt small and insignificant in comparison to Castiel. He could do anything, love anything, and yet, Castiel chose Dean. 

Dean swayed at the thought. 

_I love you, Castiel._ He prayed to him, silent as a thought. 

Castiel glowed a little brighter. 

_Tell me after, okay?_

Dean smiled. The black smoke wisped at his feet as he pushed through the magnificent, golden door. 

\--

His eyes fluttered open.

He felt lighter despite his pounding headache. 

“Cas?”

Dean tried to sit up from the cold stone floor. He groaned at the soreness of his body and the exhaustion that overwhelmed him. 

Coughing, he whipped his head around searching for the angel. 

In the corner, Cas sat slumped against the wall. 

“Cas!” Dean choked out. He scrambled over to the angel. 

Castiel’s head lolled to the side as Dean shook him slightly. He collapsed in Dean’s embrace.

“No, no, no,” Dean murmured, “Cas! Come on, buddy.”

Leaning forward, Dean pressed himself against Castiel’s chest searching for a heartbeat. 

Nothing. 

Sitting back, Dean pulled Cas’ lifeless body into his arms and rocked him. 

“Please, no,” Dean sobbed against the angel’s shoulder. “Please, no, you can’t leave now.” 

He pushed his fingers into Cas’ hair, pulling him closer. 

Tears splattered across Cas’ torn up trench coat and landed in splotched circles against the fabric. 

“You shouldn’t have saved me,” he whispered. “Everything would’ve been fine…”

Gradually, he pulled away and pressed a slow kiss to Cas’ cold forehead. Then, carefully, he laid him on the ground. He pushed back a lock of Cas’ hair from his face in attempt to correct it. 

Dean shook his head as he tried to hold back his tears. 

“Cas, please,” Dean sighed. “I love you.” 

Collapsing onto Cas’ motionless vessel, Dean wept. He curled around his body and pressed kisses against his arm, clinging to the last remaining warmth of the angel’s skin. 

The hollowness within him took hold, and Dean passed out wrapped around his lover’s form.


	13. Epilogue

He woke in a white room with a heavy heart. 

A familiar gaze stared at him from the end of the bed. 

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Sammy whispered. 

Dean closed his eyes and pushed his head deeper into the cushioning pillow. He didn’t want to hear this. Preferably, he didn’t want to ever speak of it again. 

“I did everything I could,” Sam stated. “But I couldn’t…” 

Sam’s voice broke. 

“I’m so sorry,” he repeated. 

Groaning, Dean turned to face his brother. 

“It’s not your fault, Sam,” Dean replied. His chest ached, and he wondered how long it takes to heal a broken heart. 

Sam nodded blindly, and Dean knew he didn’t believe him. 

“How long have I been out?” Dean grunted. 

“Three days.” 

He keeled. 

A corpse would be completely cold, lifeless, and decaying at this point. Dean swallowed thickly, fighting the image of Cas deteriorating. 

“Did you, uh,” Dean sank back in to the pillow. “Did you bury the body?”

“No,” Sam sighed. “Salt and burn, just in case.” 

Dean felt the first tear fall across his cheek. 

“Oh, okay,” Dean nodded, hiding his face from his younger brother. “That’s good.”

“Yeah, we definitely don’t want her coming back, especially now that we have Lucifer on the loose.” 

Dean darted to a sitting position. “Her?”

“Lilith, remember?” Sam furrowed his eyebrows. “Dean, are you okay?”

Confusion stretched across Dean’s face. “Wait, you salt and burned Lilith?” He neglected the rising feeling of hope in his chest. “Where is Cas?” 

“Uh, I dunno, I think he went to grab a coffee a couple of minutes ago,” Sam rambled. “He’s been having a hard time watching over you now that he has to sleep. And eat. Did you know that Cas only ever tasted molecules before now? I never would have thought angels didn’t have tasting abilities, but Cas—”

“Cas is alive?” Dean interrupted.

Sam reared back in shock. 

“Of course he is,” Sam stated. “You thought he was dead?”

Dean opened his mouth to answer, but a knock stole their attention. 

“Come in!” Sam yelled. 

“Sam, I just discovered the most amazing thing,” Cas said entering the room while looking down into his styrofoam coffee cup. “There are these little packets of sugar that humans invented to create the perfect sugar to coffee ratio.” He swirled a wooden stir stick in his cup. “I used five, and it tastes like a newborn star. It’s much more pleasant.” 

Dean cracked a smile as the angel stared into the caffeinated beverage. Cas lifted the cup to his lips and sipped. 

“Heya, Cas,” Dean smiled. 

Lowering his cup, Cas looked at Dean. His blue eyes twinkled under the fluorescent lights. He smiled; then, he handed his coffee to Sam.

Striding to Dean’s side, Cas pressed their foreheads together and breathed deeply.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas said. He pressed a chaste kiss against Dean’s lips as his fingers pushed through Dean’s dirty hair. 

“I thought you were dead,” Dean whispered as he pulled Cas into a tight embrace. 

Dean watched as Sam stood, and threw a knowing wink over his shoulder as he left. 

“No,” Cas whispered. “But I’m not an angel anymore.”

Dean leaned back slightly. 

“Cas,” he muttered. He tucked a fly away hair behind his ear. 

“My grace cancelled out with your demon,” Cas said. “You are saved, Dean Winchester.” 

Dean pulled Cas down into the soft bed, collapsing against each other. He kissed Castiel deep and slow, surging with emotion. 

“I love you,” Dean whispered into Cas’ skin. 

Resting his head upon Cas’ chest, Dean listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. 

“I love you, too, Dean,” Cas stated. 

They lied together for hours, safe in each other’s arms for the first time in an eternity. 

Lucifer could wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. <3

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of this fan video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ta8dUR4PITQ by LightNeverFades <3
> 
> Kudos and comments greatly appreciated <3
> 
> And check out that video, it's amazing.


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